


Nature Vs Nurture

by darkspine10



Series: Falls Tales [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Adopted Children, Alien Character(s), Arguing, Bonding, Camping, Dipper goes by Mason at times, Elemental Magic, Father-Daughter Relationship, Hiking, Writer's Block
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:48:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26340673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkspine10/pseuds/darkspine10
Summary: Dipper and his adopted daughter, Merrise, go on a three-day camping trip in the woods of Gravity Falls. Along the way, they encounter mysterious forces at work. Their relationship is tested, and Dipper learns what it truly means to be a father.Meanwhile, at home Pacifica applies herself, planning on beginning a new career: an author. Can she discover her true inspiration?
Relationships: Pacifica Northwest/Dipper Pines
Series: Falls Tales [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1914031
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	1. Campfires and Constants

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note on branding. This fic is set in the same continuity as my previous fics, Forever Falling and A New Course. To that end, I've put this and A New Course together in a series I'm titling 'Falls Tales'. This series will basically just include any and all fics set after FF. I may someday tie those stories into some kind of arc plot, but for now each one is its own thing.
> 
>   
> While A New Course barely referenced the previous continuity, this fic does more directly involve past events to Forever Falling. The story prominently focuses on a character I introduced in that story, Merrise. To spare any newcomers from having to read an entire 40-chapter epic, I've drafted up a little profile with all you need to know:
> 
> _Merrise  
> _  
>  _Age: 10 years old_
> 
> _Species: Tengosan_
> 
> _Appearance: Bright pink skin; Wide, dark eyes; Slender frame, tall for her age; Six fingers on each hand_
> 
> _Profile: Orphaned when her parents were killed in part of a planetary war, Merrise lived on the streets, begging for scraps and moving from temporary home to home in the abandoned districts of her home city._
> 
> _When Dipper and Mabel arrived on Tengosa while passing through on a quest to trace a powerful cosmic signal emanating through space, they became involved in a murder mystery case. Separated from Pacifica, while browsing the local market, Dipper’s journal was pickpocketed by Merrise, who led him on a chase into the abandoned district. After getting his journal back, he learnt Merrise’s story and let her tag along as local knowledge. Eventually the twins were reunited with Pacifica, and with Merrise’s help solved the murders._
> 
> _As they were about to depart, Dipper, who’d bonded with Merrise, offered her a lift offworld. Merrise eagerly agreed and joined them on their journey. At the conclusion of their epic quest, Merrise returned to Earth with the Pines. Dipper and Pacifica adopted her as their daughter, before Pacifica became pregnant with another child._
> 
> The full background should you wish to know more can be found in chapters 35 and 36 of FF. Nature Vs Nurture picks up a few months later.
> 
>   
> Finally, very special thanks to Edward_or_Ford for beta reading.

_“Through the shining paths we walk  
We ain’t got no time to talk”_

Footfalls on mud, striding over thick roots lining the path.

_“Take me out another day  
Say the words you long to say.”_

Shafts of light breaking through the vibrant foliage all around her.

_“It’s the perfect time of year,  
we have nothing to fear.“_

A vista of green as far as the eye could see. Was the whole planet one endless, emerald forest?

_“Come and run away with me,  
I’ll show you how it feels to be free.”_

Out of breath already, only a few hours in. She wanted to rest.

Her father suddenly reappeared from behind the trees up ahead. He spoke to her, lips moving wordlessly, then gestured to his head. She got the message and slid the pink headphones, the ones the same colour as her bright skin, down around her neck. The music continued to play – some old pop song her mother liked for some reason – but distant, a hollow echo.

Merrise Pines was confronted fully with the overwhelming sounds of nature all around her. The gentle wind rustling through the leaves. The flow of distant stream. So much life teeming in the forest. Mostly birdsong unlike any she’d heard before. Not even the Morada outlands were home to such exotic sounds.

She realised her dad was still looking at her, watching her reactions closely. “C’mon Sixer, there’s so much out here to see.”

She looked down at her hand as he bounded onwards. One extra digit than anyone else on this world. It was like how he’d got his nickname, Dipper; a simple marker of being out of the ordinary. She hurried to catch up with him. “Wait, let me switch off the com unit.”

“Com- oh, you mean the phone.”

Merrise fished in the large pockets of her sweater for the device and turned off the tinny reverb. Another reminder that she wasn’t from around here. Back on Tengosa the most complex piece of communications tech was a trusty radio. Here on Earth they’d surpassed that long ago. The little box in her pocket could even display moving pictures! Crazy to think about.

“Ready to talk now?” Dipper’s eyebrow was raised. He was gently teasing her, trying to get her to open up. “That’s why we’re out here after all.”

“I know, but it’s still all so…”

“Weird?” he offered, and Merrise smiled and nodded.

“Yeah. Takes some getting used to.”

“Well, then this is the place to be. Couldn’t ask for a weirder place than Gravity Falls.” He led her along a short way to a viewpoint where the trees opened up. Merrise could see for miles up here. They were on a winding slope, the path on this side of the valley hugging tall mountains with bare white peaks.

“It’s so pretty,” she uttered. But it was slightly monotonous she thought. Trees, always trees. That was what she’d seen most of on Earth so far. She’d been to so many outlandish places, from the swaying grassy plains of Dimension 52, to the hollow quiet of the empty buildings in the Latropian city, that it was a slight step down to experience all this sameness. Mom and Dad told her that there were lots of other strange environments around the planet, but so far she’d only sampled the small area around town, never leaving the valley for long.

“This trek’s perfect for beginners, Merrise,” Dipper said. “Lots of gentle ups and down along the slope. I used to do it loads with the girls.” He stepped forwards and set his leg up on a log, letting the breeze flow over him.

He was the very picture of a rugged adventurer, clad in red flannel with his long messy hair tied into a bun. Merrise had to suppress a small giggle. 

“What?” Dipper asked with a lopsided smile.

“Oh, nothing.” She didn’t really think the look suited him that much. The long hair combined with the scraggly growths on his face made him look unkempt. Not to mention the thin patina of sweat. Her own skin was completely smooth and free of blemishes. Pacifica’s neat cleanliness was much more appealing.

Then again, she didn’t know much about Earth customs. Like her clothes, a hoodie over a specially knitted bright green sweater Aunt Mabel had made for her. They had strange fashion here. Plus even with those thick layers she was still chilly. Nothing like home.

Dipper seemed to notice her shivering, so held an arm out beside himself. She ran over and let him side-hug her. For a moment they just stood there in each other’s embrace, breathing in the cool air. This was where she felt the most cared for, safe in the arms of her dad. Moments like this made all the strangeness of her new home worth it. Moments she’d had far too few of before she and her parents had found each other.

“Photo time, I think.” Dipper stretched out his arm, camera poised to capture the pair of them.

“Do we have to, Dad?” Merrise sighed. “Again? You’ve been getting that old thing out every five minutes.”

“I’ll have you know this camera was a gift from Mr Mystery himself. Just a quick snap and we’ll be off. Say cheese!”

“Cheese!”

The two of them smiled and waited for the click. A polaroid slid out of the camera, and Dipper shook it until the image resolved. “One for the books I think.” Merrise knew what this meant, grinning when she correctly guessed her dad would reach into his jacket and retrieve his journal.

She wondered what it was that made the book so special to him as he slipped the photo onto the latest page. He wrote a speedy note next to the photo, then snapped the journal shut.

“Alright, let’s get going!” Merrise started marching off back into the woods, eager to get some momentum going. They’d had enough stops and starts this morning, and she wanted to cover some real ground before nightfall.

“Woah, make sure you pace yourself,” Dipper’s call came drifting from behind. “Three days, your mother’s given us. That’s plenty of time to get where we’re going.”

Merrise barrelled on unhindered, excited to explore the valley. Then she stopped up short, suddenly pensive. “Hey, what if we run into somebody out here? You said you walked here a lot, other people might too.”

Dipper caught up and put his hand on her shoulder. “You've still got your perception filter on?”

Merrise reached under the turtleneck of her sweater and pulled out the gold medallion to show Dipper. A small wedge of circuitry was pinned to the metal; tech salvaged from the universal translators that had aided them on their last major adventure. A parting gift from Chiu Tech.

“Then you'll be fine,” Dipper assured her. “You’ll appear as what anyone expects you to be: An ordinary nine year-old kid. A human kid. My daughter. Besides,” he booped her nose, “anyone we’re liable to meet out here will be way more unusual than you, sweetie, trust me.”

“Right.” Merrise nodded but remained rooted to the spot.

After a few seconds, Dipper could tell she wasn’t about to move on so easily. “Hey, you’d tell me if you weren’t ok, right?”

“Sure, I’m fine,” she said without much enthusiasm.

“Only, you’ve been kinda quiet today. Not talking much this morning.” Dipper stared into her round, black eyes. “Hey sweetheart? It’s ok, there’s nobody out here but me and you.”

Wringing her hands, a unique interplay of her six fingers, Merrise tried to articulate her feelings. She ended up not quite getting there. “It’s just… lotta strange new stuff. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh?” Dipper raised a single eyebrow. “Today’s all about you, remember.”

She did. A chance for them to finally get some father-daughter bonding time. It had taken a long while to find enough spare days for the camping trip, what with the rest period after their long voyage away from Earth, then the full-time move to Gravity Falls. Dipper and Pacifica had gone through so much upheaval in their lives in the last few months, it was understandable they needed to process all the big events. And all that was without Merrise even trying to think about how she felt towards her baby sister.

Dipper was looking at her now like he knew this was overdue. He even got down on one knee to put himself on her level. “If you ever need to talk, about anything, then just say. I’m here. We're not gonna forget about you because you're adopted and she's not. We love both our daughters equally.”

“I get that Dad. I really do.” The way the Pines had opened up and let her into their lives was still an overwhelming source of joy for her. Never before had she counted so strongly on the kindness of strangers. “Trust me though, I’m good. Come on, like you said. Let’s get hiking.”

Dipper’s grin returned and he stood up. “Sure thing, Sixer. You can take the lead.” Merrise set off, a spring back in her step. “Oh wait,” Dipper called. “Make sure you remind me to take more photos of the plants out here.”

“Huh, why?” Merrise said, confused.

“That way when I print out the pictures I can call it _photosynthesis_.” Dipper gave the goofiest grin and Merrise groaned out loud.

“Ugh, Dad, no! That’s worse than one of Mabel’s jokes!”

Dipper’s shoulders lifted in a shrug as his smile only grew in size. “What can I say, I'm embracing my dad side.”

* * *

`UrsaPinus: We’ve passed the first marker on time, should be hunkering down for some lunch soon. Gonna take M up the ridgeway, you know, over towards the floating cliffs. Good weather for stargazing tonight too!`

`Llamalover15: You two have a great time on the rest of the trip.`

Pacifica typed the speedy confirmation, then put the distraction of the phone aside, content in the thought that the two of them were having a good start to their trip. She could only hope the remainder would go smoothly.

Mason hadn’t noticed anything wrong. Of course he hadn’t. But Pacifica had seen the subtle shifts in her daughter, Merrise’s mood turning withdrawn and quiet for such a confident young girl. It was probably just the passing of time; she’d been able to finally settle and reflect on all the change.

It wasn’t any maternal instinct that tipped her off, god no. It was simply what had happened to herself, Pacifica recalled, years ago, after leaving her parents. At first the chaos swamped all emotions, leaving her in a buzz of excitement for the change, but eventually it came in waves. Regret, despair, hope, fear, overwhelming joy and sadness intermingled.

Merrise would get through it. She was tough. If she’d learnt anything about the girl in the months since first meeting her it was that she could deal with anything that came her way. She could cope with this too.

Now, to let those two have their fun while she got down to work. Her little miracle was sleeping peacefully in the cot behind her, at an arm’s reach if a mother’s touch was needed. As Pacifica was finally beginning to settle into a calm mood, another buzz came from her phone.

`UrsaPinus: Good luck with the writing! Love u Princess.`

The message ended with a small emoji of a llama. Pacifica grinned. He was still such a romantic at heart. With the camping trip, as well as his recent visit to Sapphire Bay to help his sister out, they'd spent a lot of time apart. Once he was back she'd have to rectify that. As well as letting him be on diaper changing duties for the next month.

But for now she needed focus, so once again pushed the phone away. Sitting at her desk, everything laid out before her, she should have had an easy time of it. Her baby was soundly sleeping. No-one else would disturb her at the house. Three days of isolation to finally crank out her next book.

It was certainly more sedate a pace compared to her old job as an architect. No clients hounding her, no set deadlines, no complex design work. Just a blank sheet of paper and no idea what to fill it with. No pressure.

The few books she’d worked on previously since switching gears and moving across the entire country had been semi-autobiographical, descriptions of the sordid business deals that went on during her childhood and the like. Easy enough to recall and fun to dish out the dirt. It paid the bills, though it wasn’t like they needed money given her sizable inheritance.

But now she was trying her hand at fiction. And as the blank page seemed to say to her, failing to make a start. Pacifica wanted to stretch herself, to put pen to paper and create something new. This was a fresh start for her and her family.

Where to start? What genre should she go for? Neo-noir crime fiction, conspiracy thrillers of the kind Mason devoured? Maybe some trashy romance fluff, that’d be a laugh. Yet she wanted something of weight, something grand and personal and important.

Instead she found herself chewing on the end of her pen. She spent a few minutes doodling on the edges of her clean sheet. Drawing would help, right? If she was planning to illustrate the book too, she’d need to stay in practice. At least she was happy to see no inverted triangles or ouroboros’ cropping up subconsciously in her penstrokes.

As the clock ticked on, she continued to waste time doing not much of anything. She fiddled with her pendant. Several minutes were occupied while she was fascinated by examining her nails. Eventually she even got up and went over to watch Wendy sleeping. Anything to avoid deciding on any ideas.

Her daughter was wriggling around in her sleep, a little bundle of energy. Pacifica rubbed her head gently, soothing her into a calmer rest. Her beautiful child. Wendy was a sheer cosmic fluke, a possibility neither she nor Dipper had ever believed possible and named after their departed friend who’d given them a chance at a peaceful life.

That sparked an idea in Pacifica’s mind. If she couldn’t come up with any ideas organically on her own, then maybe she needed something to kickstart the process. She was now perhaps considering adapting some of the other aspects of her life. Dipper’s journals 7 and 8 were lying right there on the side of the desk, as well as her own Llama journal. Would it be so wrong to take a leaf out of those books?

They contained the most wondrous descriptions, the chronicle of their whole last two years of adventures. Surely it wouldn't be a crime to take a little inspiration, only to start her off.

Her hand halted in the air as she slammed the brakes on that idea. She couldn't just go recounting those stories. Some were deeply private, others potentially dangerous in their implications, should a wider audience get a sense of the truth. She'd hate for anything to get out that might over-publicise her beloved Falls. Who knew the chaos that widespread knowledge could cause?

Maybe she could borrow certain parts of the text, change up some of the names and descriptions. Yet that still felt little more than a chopped-up retelling of her own life. Besides, the new book was supposed to be fiction. She could hardly call herself an author without coming up with something more original. Right?

As she’d learnt since college, any decent structure needed a solid foundation. But limitless freedom had never sat well with Pacifica.

Her, the girl whose fate seemed preordained from birth. Whether by her parents, indescribable extra-dimensional terrors, or even her own body's inability to conceive a child for so long, she seemed bound by forces outside her control shaping her destiny.

She forced herself to relax. All she was doing was writing a book, that didn't warrant some complex introspective journey. She wasn't about to crumble so easily. After all, hadn't she overcome those limitations holding her back? She had her family, her independence. She was in control.

Then again, there had always been help along the way, mostly from the twins. They weren't available right now, but she did have some contacts left in Gravity Falls.

Given the quality of conversation in the house right now with Wendy would amount to little more than gurgles, Pacifica carefully wrapped her daughter up in a sling across her chest and set out for her oldest refuge in times of strife.

* * *

“All in all a successful first day of hiking!”

Sat high on an exposed ridge, a campfire blazed in front of Dipper and Merrise. A small pot of soup hung over the flames. Their small tents were already set up, and beside them a long metal tube stood on three legs. Merrise didn’t know what its purpose was yet.

While she held out a stick with a spongy white blob on the end that Dipper called a ‘marshmallow’ over the fire, he was excitedly writing in his journal again. “I’m sad we didn’t run into anything out of the ordinary though. I know you’re no stranger to supernatural occurrences – hello end of the universe and all that – but still, would’ve been nice to introduce you to some of the weirdness we have at home.”

“Maybe tomorrow, I guess,” Merrise replied half-heartedly. She leant over to try and get a look at the inside of the book. Even with the basic reading lessons Dipper and Pacifica had given her, the words still seemed like incomprehensible gibberish. If she needed to know something she’d always just stored the info in her head, no need for wasting time writing it down. That was the way she’d always lived.

Yet Dipper adored his journal. All that secret knowledge made Merrise feel somehow left out, like it was a joke everyone got but her. For the briefest second she thought she glimpsed a golden light flowing out from the journal and leant forwards in wonder. Then she simply saw it was the glint of the fire reflecting off the cover lines. Her eyes playing tricks on her in the dark.

“There we go.” Dipper finished writing in the book and set it aside. “I think that’s enough time now. You can eat up if you want.”

“Oh, yeah.” Merrise jerked the marshmallow out of the fire. It had turned a golden brown. She took an exploratory bite. Sweet and chewy. She decided she liked the taste.

“You know, you can take more than one bite,” Dipper said, smirking. Merrise realised she was staring at the food, not moving to eat any more, so went for a second helping. “No judgement out here, you can eat as much as you like.” Dipper opened the lid of their soup pot and stirred the concoction within. “You're like Pacifica in that way, neither of you eat enough.” 

For exactly opposite reasons, he mused. Pacifica had been raised in a world where the food was luxurious but the portions minuscule, a diet of fancy specialty dishes designed to keep her figure slim and to flash her family’s wealth around.

Meanwhile, he observed Merrise’s eating of the marshmallow. She dived in for small quick nibbles, taking such tiny amounts of the food into her mouth. It was a means of trying to prolong the meal as long as possible. Who knew when the next meal would come along when you lived an unpredictable life of scavenging for scraps.

A shiver ran across Merrise’s slender body. She was still overly skinny, no real body mass to keep her warm despite Mabel’s fluffy sweater and the multiple layers.

Dipper reached into his pack and grabbed something to help. “Here, try this.” He handed over a small hat made of grey and brown fur.

“What is it?” Merrise was apprehensive, like the hat would reveal itself as an animal and come alive at any moment.

“It used to be Wendy’s,” Dipper answered. “The original I mean, not your sister.”

“Oh.” Merrise’s eyes widened when she realised the significance, and she quickly slid it over her head. It was a little big, and Dipper helped clear it from hanging over her eyes. Merrise ran a hand over the soft fur, then turned her eyes skywards. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Dipper followed her gaze, up to the clear sky. Here in the wild away from the town there was little light pollution, so they had an uninterrupted view of the stars shining above. “I think it’s time we look at the main attraction.” He left the soup to cook and went over to the metal tube. He angled it upwards and adjusted the settings.

Merrise hopped up next to him, curious about the instrument. "Is it some kind of fancy camera?"

“It's a telescope,” Dipper stated. “It’s technically Pacifica’s, but you’re lucky she’s in a generous mood.”

"She probably meant it as a bribe to get us out of the house," Merrise said with a chuckle. “How does it work?” She put her eye up against the wide end of the scope, trying to fathom the purpose.

Now he had her interest again, Dipper felt her mood had improved a little. She was inquisitive about the new device, ready to learn its secrets. He was happy to share. “Light from the stars comes in that end, then you look through this aperture to see them magnified. It lets you see them in much greater detail than with our eyes. Well, my eyes, yours seem to be evolved to take in more visual information…” He trailed off when those same wide eyes were staring at him, bored by the rambling. “Anyway, take a look, I’ve set up the focus now.”

Merrise sidled over to the lens and bent over to see. “Woah, cool! They’re way bigger!”

Dipper put an arm around her to keep her warm and steady. “What do you see, Sixer?” he asked, trying to spark her curiosity further.

The image in the scope was a collection of stars, zoomed in. Merrise moved her eye over to take in the whole picture. “There’s a pattern, I recognise it!” She turned away from the stars and pointed at Dipper. “That’s you, up in the sky.”

Dipper brushed the hair away from his forehead, grinning all the while. “10 outta 10 observation skills!” He’d aimed the telescope right at one of the easiest constellations to spot. The same one that was so similar to the pattern of spots in his birthmark.

“That’s awesome Dad.” Merrise’s glee was evident, and she turned back to the scope. This time she tried shifting the view, looking at other lights in the sky.

Dipper pressed his face beside hers, helping her guide the aim of the scope towards the more interesting constellations, Orion, Cassiopeia, Draco. He showed her the moon, a nearly full sphere marked with craters she could see in fantastic detail. He laughed when she said she was disappointed that she could only find a single moon. Apparently back home on Tengosa they had three of the things in orbit.

"This is my job,” Dipper said in hushed tones as his daughter took in the wonders up above. “Watching the skies, taking observations, tracing the paths of the stars. We can see the history of the universe laid out before us, millions of years of light travelling to reach us."

“Does that mean we can…” Merrise had a look of eager concentration on her face as she scanned rapidly over areas of sky.

“We can what? Slow down, you’ll only see motion blur moving that fast.”

Merrise stopped and pulled away from the aperture. “I was just wondering if I could see… home.”

This gave Dipper some pause. “I… I don’t know sweetie.” He and the others had only spent four days on Tengosa, the world Merrise had come from originally. Not nearly enough time to stargaze, or to verify roughly where in the universe it might be located. “It’s a big universe, billions of light years across. Anything’s possible.”

“But is Tengosa even up there?” Merrise’s tone had an edge of anxiety. “We didn't just travel in space on our journey, but through time and dimensions and other places. What if it’s not out there somewhere? What if it’s in some other realm entirely?” She was entirely caught up in a panic now, shaking and wildly swinging the telescope around.

“Hey hey hey, don’t worry.” Dipper threw his arms around her quivering form, wrapping her tight in a blanket of safety. So quickly the atmosphere of the night had shifted from Merrise’s eager marvelling to a complete breakdown. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes. No. Maybe.” Merrise buried her head in Dipper’s chest, holding back a soft whimper.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s ok.” He stroked her head, his hand running over the fur hat. He knew she needed as much comfort as he could give in this moment. After a little while helping her breathing steady, he faced her eye to eye. “Look, this isn’t the first time we’ve thought about all this. Me and Pacifica, we’ve talked about your home loads of time. We always ask ourselves the same question: Were we right to take you away from everything you knew? Tengosa was your birthplace, there were other people like you. But I think, in the end, we made the right choice. We both saw the way you were surviving, no home, no money, it was no sort of life for a kid. So now you’re here we can do whatever we can to make you feel safe and appreciated as part of our family. And you don’t have to forget the place you came from either, it’s still out there somewhere even if we can’t see it tonight.”

Merrise thought back to her parents. Her real parents from so long ago. She tried to remember her mother, focusing on a memory of her father’s pride when she was called up to fight on the front lines. The next thing she could recall was his enduring strength when the news came that she’d fallen in glorious battle for East Tengosa. Then he was gone too, taken away when the bombs hit their building. Merrise had been lucky to make it out, small enough to crawl over debris through the choking dust, out into the sunlight. That was it, they were gone, and she was scraping out a life on the streets.

Until the fateful day she picked Dipper’s pocket and stole his precious journal. The day she’d finally started to begin hoping that she wouldn’t be alone again. That made her wonder something. 

She muttered something quietly. Dipper couldn’t hear her properly, so she repeated the statement. “Dad, when was the last time _you_ went home? To your family? Not me and Mom and Wendy, or Aunt Mabel... but there must be somebody else.”

Dipper’s grip on her shoulders tensed. “I… haven’t thought about that in a long time.” Merrise’s gaze didn’t waver from his. She had to hear the full story now. “To tell the truth… I haven’t spoken to my parents properly in years.” 

“Why not?” Merrise asked, shocked at the idea.

“Where to start?” Dipper exhaled deeply. “Ooh, well, ok. Think about all the stuff you know I get up to. All the amazing adventures and creatures we’ve run into together. All the high-tech portal stuff. Now imagine that my parents don’t know anything about any of that. How would you break the news if you were only a kid?”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he nodded. He could tell Merrise grasped the scope of the issue. She really was quick at understanding people, the vital ability to read intentions being a core part of how she’d survived alone for so long. “Me and Mabel kept so many secrets from Mom and Dad, that if we’d ever told them we’d have probably been grounded for life. Not all of Earth is as weird as Gravity Falls. They wouldn’t have understood. Still might not.”

“So you don’t see them anymore?” Merrise asked.

“Well, Mabel still keeps in touch directly. Visits Piedmont – that’s where I’m from – every now and again. They know about her activism; she couldn’t keep that hidden for very long. And I still email. I had to tell them about Wendy of course, and you as a part of that.”

“They know I exist?” Merrise found the idea odd. She’d never had grandparents before, but it hardly felt like she did now anyway.

“I mean,” Dipper continued, “I didn’t tell them about the alien stuff. They just know we adopted you. They keep begging to see you though, to come up and visit.”

“Well, why can’t they?”

“Think about it. They’ll be looking deeper than most people. They'll see through any perception filter in no time. Then where will we be, huh?”

Merrise looked down at her six fingered hand, filled with a new sense of shame about her very nature.

Dipper noticed her action and immediately moved to reassure her. “It’s not your fault at all Merrise. You’re different, but there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. But some people aren’t ready to find out about alien life, especially not if it’s their grandkid. Please understand, you’re perfect the way you are.”

This seemed to finally relax her nerves. She looked tired though and went back to sit down by the campfire. “Maybe someday we can go meet them though?”

“Maybe someday.” Inwardly Dipper was 13 years old again, thinking of all the ways telling his parents about the supernatural would destroy his life. Never allowed to visit the Falls, never allowed to touch his journals again. “Your Grunkles woulda loved you though,” he blurted out, both to assuage his daughter’s doubts and refocus his mind on a new topic.

Merrise scooped up some of the now ready soup, then halted before slipping her spoon in the bowl. “What about Pacifica's parents then?” 

"Whoah boy, now that's a whole ‘nother story I can tell you.” Dipper couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the very idea of introducing an alien as the next in line for their fabulous legacy of wealth. They’d probably have dual heart attacks. Might be worth doing for that alone.

Merrise giggled too, clear in the understanding that it was a story for another time, one Pacifica herself would probably tell. She slurped her soup up noisily while Dipper got his own serving. Back to the part of the trip he could control, teaching Merrise the basics of cooking and putting up tents. Much easier than deep conversations about their parents.

He did think of one more thing he could do with the telescope though. A memory he was happy to focus on. Setting down his soup, he aligned the lens to a specific constellation. “One last look before bed.”

Merrise ran over to the scope, excited again like they’d never had the heavy conversation. She looked up at the sky, expecting something magnificent to round off the day. Instead, there was only another constellation.

“That is Andromeda,” Dipper said. “The most important constellation there is to me. It’s something me and your mother share.”

“What’s so special about it?” To Merrise it was no more interesting than any of the other star signs she’d looked at. Another bunch of white dots hanging up there twinkling.

“On one of our first dates we spent the night looking up at the same stars, just like tonight. That constellation became a permanent reminder of our love. Ever since then I’ve known she was the one. No-one else ever came close after that.”

He looked down from the constellation, brimming with fondness at the memory. But Merrise’s head was tilted to the side, like she didn’t quite understand. They looked at each other, each slightly confused at the other’s reaction.

“Come on.” Dipper ruffled her hat, making her giggle and forgetting the awkwardness. “Let’s get ready for bed, Sixer. Another long day tomorrow.”


	2. The Plot Thickens

Gravity Falls might be a small town, Pacifica considered, but the walk out into the woods still took some time. It didn’t help that she still hadn’t quite recovered her stamina from her recent pregnancy. So she arrived in the clearing after dark, once all the tourists had left. The last tour had ended, and the place would be shutting up for the night.

That was perfect for her anyway. She wanted some privacy.

Sitting in the clearing, the wooden structure of the Mystery Shack looked much as it always had. The repair work on the exterior was exemplary, though her architect’s eye couldn’t help spotting all the little clues to where wooden planks had been replaced or windows reglazed.

Still, now you could never tell it had been the site of a battle for the fate of reality. Multiple times.

She sat down on the front porch, resting on the frayed old sofa as she caught her breath. This old Shack had always been a place of escape for her, back in the dark times under her parents. With Wendy wriggling in her sleep in the sling around her chest, she had little to run from at home in the present. The comforting aura the building presented still had its uses though.

Across the valley right now her husband and daughter were setting up their campfire after a full day’s hiking in the wilderness. All she had to show for after one day was a big fat nothing.

Summoning up the energy, she entered the Shack, moving carefully as to not wake Wendy. Inside the gift shop Pacifica saw a scene laid out that wouldn’t have been out of place in the last three decades the Mystery Shack had been open. A wiry brown haired twelve year-old had his feet up on the gift shop counter. He was reading a magazine and clearly bored out of his skull watching the place. So many times she’d seen one of the twins in that role, or even Wendy Corduroy, back in the early days of her visits.

The kid reclining there was one of Soos and Melody’s two kids, though Pacifica was slightly ashamed that she didn’t know which of the two it was. He looked up and saw her, then yelled out. “Dad! We’ve got a visitor! It’s Mrs Pines!” With that, he went straight back to ignoring his surroundings. As he should. Pacifica found the routine amusing. Some things never change.

Already she could hear the sound of floorboards creaking. One couldn’t move around the Shack silently, that was something she’d learnt very quickly back in the day. It had made trying to find a quiet space for a moment alone with Mason that much harder.

Careening into the room, dressed in full Mr Mystery regalia, fez and all, and clutching a cane, Soos beamed when he saw her. “P-dog!”

Pacifica neatly curtsied. “Hello Mr Ramirez,” she acknowledged. She still had that air of formality around the handyman-turned-manager that she’d never been able to shake, but she trusted Soos wholeheartedly. “I was wondering if you could help me with something. It’s…” she found herself faltering and screwed up her lips. She’d come all this way, no point wasting the trip. “It’s kinda silly, but I need some advice.”

“Sure thing,” Soos replied. “Keep an eye on things, Lee.” The kid behind the counter saluted without even looking up from the magazine, and Soos led Pacifica into the living room. This place, that still smelt vaguely of wood rot and must, with the crappy old tv and cramped table. This same place she’d returned to after countless trips into the woods with Mason and Mabel, where she’d found solace away from her parents, which she could always count on as a place of rest. 

Not a bad place to look for help. She slumped down into the main armchair and unslung Wendy so she could hold her in her arms.

“May I?” Soos asked, and Pacifica handed the baby over. She was slightly worried that his pudgy fingers might squish her little child, but as a father himself he possessed a gentle touch as he rocked her back and forth gently. “Aw, so cute.” Soos asked in a sickeningly sweet voice. It was a little like having Mabel in the room. Keeping her under control during the birthing process had been an absolute nightmare. Babies just made people kinda go nuts, Pacifica observed. Though it wasn’t like she was any exception.

“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” Pacifica tapped her daughter’s tiny nose. “You’re something very special, my little lamb.”

“Where’d you get that adorable nickname from?”

“Oh,” Pacifica said, blushing a shade of scarlet. “I shouldn’t say, Mace probably wouldn’t want me bringing it up with strangers. Let’s just say it’s a childhood memory thing and leave it at that.”

“Sounds good to me, I’ve already forgotten what we were talking about! Wait, I mean that literally. Why’d do pop round to visit again?” Soos handed Wendy back over and Pacifica tried to formulate what to say while she settled the baby in her lap.

“So, you know Mason and Merrise are out on their camping trip,” she said, and Soos nodded, since the pair had picked up some walking gear from the Shack gift shop the previous week. “Well, I thought I’d use the spare time to start wibble, wammm…”

She trailed off incoherently. “What d’you say, Pacifica?” Soos cupped a hand over his ear.

Pacifica took a deep breath and tried again. “I thought I’d start… writing a novel.”

“Oh,” Soos mouthed. That was his only reaction, and Pacifica felt the invisible weight on her chest disappear. Soos had done it, he’d managed to calm her nerves completely with a single matter-of-fact word. The guy was magic when it came to accepting anything and everything, she could swear.

Her words started tumbling out, now the irrational anxiety had faded. She recounted her earlier books, her shift into wanting to write original fiction, her complete lack of progress. It didn’t take her long to explain the whole situation. Soos listened patiently all the while, hanging on every word.

“…It’s not like I can buy my way out either. All the money in the world can’t get me a single fresh idea,” Pacifica scoffed. “And they say capitalism breeds innovation.”

“You’re looking for writing advice then? Someone to bounce ideas off.”

“Kinda, I guess.” She shrugged. “I dunno, Mason’s great and all, but he’s not the most helpful. That’s why I got him out of the house, fewer distractions.” She chuckled. “He loves learning about history and mythic monsters and real-world science, all that stuff he loves to write in his journal, but he doesn’t read much fiction beyond conspiracy thrillers and hard sci-fi. I’ll pass on that.”

“Why me though?” Soos asked. “I mean, we’re friends and all, but I’m sure there are people you’d choose before me.”

Pacifica felt slightly hurt, but he was partly right. Mabel for instance would have leapt at the chance to help. But that wasn’t the kind of help she was after. "I want a fresh perspective. You're the only _normal_ person I know. You're not a political activist, or a dark magician, or a paper clone. You haven’t been to other universes or gotten embroiled in a centuries long conspiracy. All I need right now is someone like myself, nothing unorthodox."

“Alright, shoot me some ideas and I’ll tell you what I think.” Soos leant forward eager to absorb and comment on whatever she said.

But nothing came. Pacifica just stared forwards, eyes wide open. Slowly her brow furrowed, and her hand absent-mindedly stroked Wendy’s forehead. Eventually her eyes looked away. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I think I’m stuck.” Admitting it out loud like that was hard, even to an old family friend.

“Hmm.” Soos stroked the scraggly tufts of hair on his chin. “Well, usually my writer’s block comes _after_ I have a bunch of ideas, then I procrastinate actually writing the darn stuff, ha. That’s a little different from your thing.”

Pacifica stopped to process what he’d said. “Wait, Soos, you write too? No way!” Running the museum and all the odd jobs he did around the Shack didn’t lead her to expect this of him, but it made some sense. All that performative acting he did on the tours, making up outlandish stories to convince people that what he was saying was absolute truth, it might translate well to writing stories.

Soos rubbed his neck and even blushed slightly. “Aw, it’s nothing. It’s just fanfic anyway.” Pacifica wrinkled her nose up at the thought. Soos raised a single eyebrow. “Which is as legitimate as ‘proper’ writing, thank you very much.”

“Oh, uh…” Pacifica cheeks reddened with a wave of embarrassment. “Sorry, that was rude of me.”

“Ah, it’s nothing P-dog. But if you don’t want the advice of a lowly fanfic writer…”

He stood up to move away, and Pacifica desperately held out her hands. “No no, I still need your help!”

“That’s more like it.” Then Soos burst out laughing, and Pacifica gave an uneasy smile in reply. “We need to start with some kind of basic plot idea.”

“That’s the problem, I’ve got nothing.” 

“Well, what kinda books do you like reading?”

“I… hadn’t really thought about that,” she admitted.

“Well, what are your favourites then? Somewhere to ground ourselves, to get a sense of what you like.”

“I don’t know. The Ugly Duckling. Greek myths. Do fashion magazines count?”

Soos shrugged. “Sure, if you want them to. What about life experience, jobs you’ve had?”

Pacifica started counting on her fingers. “Hmm, let’s see, writer, architect, waitress at a diner. That’s about it. Besides,” she said with a smirk, “it’s still more variation than you, the only job you’ve ever had is working in this run-down tourist trap.”

“That’s the best darned tourist trap on the West Coast I’ll have you know.”

The two of them shared a laugh. Pacifica still wasn’t any closer to writing a word, but Soos had such a naturally disarming nature that made her feel like she wasn’t wasting time. She was starting to think critically about what she wanted from her novel, how best to realise those ideas. It was better than she’d achieved on her own.

Pacifica rested her head in one hand. “I’m still aimless. Not feeling so down about, but still haven’t got a clue where to begin.”

“I know we can crack this. You and me, we can put our heads together and make a start.”

She raised a weak smile. It was funny how he treated everything seriously, no matter how trivial it might seem to some. “Thanks Soos, but it’s really not the end of the world. Literally, I mean. Last year I went on a yearlong soul-searching journey through interstellar space, chasing dreams and fighting villains. I think a bit of writer’s block is a welcome comparison.”

“Heh, talking about all that stuff, reminds me I still haven’t cleared out the basement.” He tapped his foot on the floor, gesturing downwards.

Pacifica remembered the state the portal chamber had been left in once everyone had departed after last summer. There was nothing down there but twisted metal struts and discarded spacesuits, the detritus of their noble quest into the Multiverse.

“I’ve been thinking though, about renovating it properly” Soos continued, “turning it into some kind of memorial, you know. A lot of crazy stuff happened down there; it would be nice to have somewhere we could go to reflect. For Stan, Ford, Wendy – all former residents/employees of the Shack. Plus extra tourist fees for entry. Mel and I wouldn’t mind a little extra for the kids.”

“A memorial…” Pacifica said quietly, considering the idea. Her eyes moved from the wooden planks over the basement to her daughter lying in her arms. Wendy. Her daughter would never know the full story of what had happened, how many people had sacrificed themselves so that not only her, but all those born across time and space could have a chance at life.

“That’s it!” She leapt up. Suddenly her mind was racing with ways to turn those tales, those events that had defined her life, into new forms. It wouldn’t just be mere transcription of the past, it would be a way of introducing people to those forgotten figures. “Thank you so much Mr Ramirez.” She shook his hand vigorously, then ran out of the room, baby in hand.

Soos was left slightly dazed as he watched her go. “Uh, you’re welcome Pacifica.” If only he knew how exactly he’d inspired her.

* * *

“Well. Would you look at that.”

The tree was an anomaly. Its bark was grey and charred, while the branches, free of leaves, reached up plaintively to the sky. Its placement was also strange, situated in a wide open plain. There were no other trees, just a valley of dust. The verdant forest simply stopped, a straight line of green that ended with the wasteland ahead.

Merrise placed her hand on the trunk of the dead tree. “What caused this?”

For Dipper and Merrise, the morning had begun much like the previous. The two of them trekked across the Oregon landscape, Merrise soaking in the new environs, the alien wildlife, and Dipper’s jokes and stories of his times exploring the same woods.

Reacting to Merrise’s attitude last night, Dipper, to his credit, tried to make the walk more engaging, keeping a similar pace and constantly pointing out cool or interesting features of the places they traversed. Little observation games and challenges like who could cover certain ground fastest raised her spirits a lot, compared to all the introspection she’d gone through the night before.

They talked to each other about Mabel’s latest campaigns over on the East Coast, working with Zera on an art project to promote setting up more networks to help out homeless communities. They made lots of jokes about Pacifica behind her back, here in the open forest where she couldn’t shoot them condescending looks or get angry at their light jibes. They both talked about Wendy, about what she might be like when she grew up, and how Merrise would find having a sibling for the first time in her life. Dipper even opened up and answered some questions Merrise had about his parents, what his childhood in Piedmont was like, and their eventual drifting apart.

It was all going wonderfully for both of them. That was, until around midday, when they stopped to fill up their bottles, filtering water from a small stream, and Dipper checked his map. They still had a long way to go today before they could think about setting up camp. 

Merrise didn’t take the news all that well. “Ugh, more walking. My feet are sooooo sore,” she whined.

“We’ll stop soon for a snack, I promise,” Dipper said. “Give it some time Merrise, you’ll gain more stamina as you go. At first I wasn’t too keen on all this outdoorsy nature stuff either. Much preferred curling up with a book at home.” Then his face took on a new light, aglow with fond reminiscence. “But this place, this strange valley, it has a way of working its way into your soul, it becomes a part of you.”

“It’s kinda weird though, just walking for fun. Used to be everyday was a struggle. Now I almost feel like we’re wasting time, doing nothing.”

“You’ll settle in, I’m sure.” But Dipper tried to hide a frown, as Merrise had the same expression as last night when they’d been talking round the fire. She still wasn’t quite on the wavelength with him. Perhaps after more time living here she’d come around.

After that, the tone was noticeably quieter between them. They still chatted and continued to trudge onwards, but the jovial air was lost. That was when they came to the ashen expanse. 

Dipper came over to Merrise and the tree and tapped one of the twisted branches. “It’s unusual, I’ve gotta say. This area shouldn’t be so bare. It’s definitely way too early for this time of year.”

“What do you mean?” Merrise asked.

“Oh, let me guess; you didn’t have seasons on Tengosa. Makes sense, desert planet, probably a more stable climate overall. See, on this world, the weather and temperature shift as the axis tilts. And minor effects due to irregularities in the orbit have an effect too.”

“You’re serious? The Earth moves, and it gets _colder_?” It was clear she didn’t believe a word of what he was saying.

“Ah, you’ll see, next winter we’ll probably get loads of snow.” Dipper turned back to the wide-open area they were stood in. He could see another similar line of trees ahead of them, like they were in a narrow band of dead terrain. “Seems too constrained for a forest fire.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Merrise said. “Looks too straight and precise. There are no other straight lines anywhere in all this nature.”

“Artificial, like something caused this.” Dipper reached into his pack and pulled out his journal. “I think we’ve got ourselves a mystery.” Merrise beamed up at him, as ready to solve it as he was.

No sooner had he opened the book to the latest page, a surge of energy pulsed through the ground. The two of them rocked on their feet, waiting for the shaking to stop. The pulse gradually dissipated, but Merrise still seemed concerned. “That was like a bomb just hit! What happened?”

“Woo, haven’t felt a quake that strong since I was a kid. Back home they used to happen all the time.” Dipper dropped down to the ground on his stomach, trying to feel any further vibrations, while Merrise watched on, uncertain.

“The earth can just shake like that, on its own?”

“Yeah, it’s caused by big plates of rocks deep underground crashing together or slipping apart suddenly. Don’t usually get them up here though.” Dipper’s brow furrowed in concern. “Merrise, I think… that might have been a foreshock.”

“You mean something else is coming?” Then her eyes widened as she looked down the valley. There, at the place where the green trees started to flourish again outside the ash field, she saw it. Heading towards them at an impressive speed, a wave of what looked like green water was covering the grey dust, sweeping it away and leaving a trail of forested terrain.

Behind her, her father started to run, covering a decent amount of ground. He was clearly used to outrunning prospective dangers, no doubt honed by his years of adventuring. But Merrise could already see it would be no good. He was running straight away, through the ash fields. The onrushing wave was too fast to beat on foot.

There was one chance. She was still close to the boundary of the trees where they’d come from. She ran as fast as her short legs could carry her, diving into the undergrowth just as the wave passed. Catching her breath, she turned to try and help Dipper out in some way. He was already gone, caught up in the tempest.

The last thing Merrise saw, for a split second as her father was carried away, was what looked like a face on the crest of the wave, impossibly smiling with a warm grin.

* * *

Clinging tightly halfway up the trunk of a tall tree, Dipper watched the mysterious wave recede into the distance. From here he could see the entire valley, that had been bare and dead moments before, was full of life again. The scar in the landscape had been miraculously healed.

The phenomenon he’d just witnessed reminded him of a time in California when he’d once watched a fireplane bringing water to put out a controlled burn that had gone wrong. Thousands of gallons plummeted down in a single torrent. The force flattened trees and crushed anything caught in its path.

This life-bringing wave had had the opposite effect, restoring the environment. The trees all around him were covered in leaves, and he could hear the sounds of wildlife all around. Whatever this sudden wave was, it had shrunk away in the distance to almost nothing now its work was seemingly complete.

“Phew, that was close, Sixer.” No reply. “Sixer?” He looked around in the canopy and down on the forest floor, but she was nowhere to be seen. He thought she’d been right beside him, fleeing the wave. “Merrise? Merrise!?” Now he was starting to panic for real.

He slid down the trunk, probably getting a bunch of splinters for his trouble. He didn’t care, he had to find his daughter. Strange things were afoot. The woods were no longer safe.

He was about to start a concerted search for her when he came face to face with an animal. Dipper jumped back. A deer with long antlers stood proud before him. The creature made no move to flee. It didn’t react to his presence at all.

Dipper saw more deer lazily walking about, eating leaves, and acting like nothing was wrong. But it felt wrong to Dipper, too exaggerated, too perfect. Stumbling onto random deer herds usually resulted in the animals getting spooked and running off. Yet they were utterly calm in the face of all this.

All around him the forest hummed with life. Swarms of butterflies swooped overhead, and the ground was dotted with flowers in a rainbow of colours. This newly restored forest was like a child’s idea of what a forest _should_ be, with all of nature easily on display and a colour palette that came from a raided crayon box.

The unperturbed deer herd moved away only when he walked directly towards them. He had no time to figure out what was going on. He had to find Merrise. A clear gap in the trees allowed him a view back down to the valley basin. It was hard to make out where they’d been before, where they’d stood by the single dead tree, since the area was now an indistinguishable mass of trees.

He called out Merrise’s name again, before quickly giving up. He was too far off. It was then he started to really worry. On the far slope of the valley opposite, a great column of fire erupted from the earth. Trees were knocked down in the vicinity and orange flames quickly started to spread. Dipper tore his backpack off and rummaged for a pair of binoculars to study the effect.

He’d checked the Oregon Department of Forestry reports before they started their trip, a usual precaution when heading deep into the wild. Thankfully, there’d been no signs of fires anywhere in this whole region. One could always spring up, but they’d not seen many other walkers today, so human-caused fire from a cigarette or careless campfire seemed unlikely. A lightning strike was even less likely since they hadn’t had a storm in the Falls for some time. No, this was definitely out of the ordinary. And therefore, a possible threat to Merrise.

That was something relatively new to Dipper. Fear. For years now he’d accepted that the world had a lot of strange things in it, but he’d taken that in his stride. He could deal with most of that stuff, as could Pacifica. But Merrise was only a kid, and she was alone with no way to find civilisation.

Instead of binoculars, Dipper only found Pacifica’s telescope. He quickly extended the tube and zoomed in on the flaming column. His heart sank. It wasn’t just a simple fire. The swirling red flames took on a distinct form, extending out plumes on either side of a central defined mass. 

The fire was stretching its wings. The phoenix suddenly toppled over. It laid down flat against the forest floor and shot down into the valley. As it picked up speed, the wings extended, carpeting a wide berth.

The horrific molten mass was covering a huge swathe of the valley, leaving only fire and ash in its wake. This thing, this Firebird, was the obvious cause of the destruction they’d seen wrought around the dead tree.

Dipper tried to predict where the head of the lava flow would go. It wasn’t aiming in the same direction as the previous green wave. Its course seemed random, turning to scour a different path through the forest. A path that would still lead it right to Merrise.

He dropped the scope, able to see the fire’s progression quite clearly now. It seemed to spread out further than the green wave, making escape on either side nearly impossible for someone trapped in the centre of its direction.

With ever-growing horror, Dipper watched helpless. The Firebird was going to burn down a straight line through the whole valley. And his daughter was caught in the middle. Dipper cried out, desperately hoping the fire would suddenly just stop on its own. “Merrise! MERRISE!”

He closed his eyes as the fire swept over the area with the dead tree. There was nothing he could do. It was already over.

“Oh my. That won’t do at all.”

Dipper’s eyes snapped open. The voice came from above him. Sitting in the boughs of the same tree he’d grabbed onto was a woman with long flowing hair. Birds and insects flocked to her; she had a whole ecosystem resting on her shoulders. The skin beneath seemed to flow like water. Green water. Dipper’s mouth flopped open. She – the wave, a nature spirit, whatever – simply enigmatically grinned down at him.

“Let’s go and fix that awful mess.”


	3. Rising from the Ashes

The world fell silent. The cataclysm was over.

Wrapped up in a tight ball, Merrise forced her eyes open, despite the stinging. All she could see was blackened earth and a few still-burning fires. She clutched the fur hat Dipper had given her tight around face, covering as much skin as she could. Gently, she pulled it fully away, and looked to see what was left of her surroundings.

What looked like rain, falling in slow-motion, blocked much of her view.

Once, while travelling through the Multiverse with Mabel and her parents, they’d passed through a world so cold that the rain had actually _frozen_ in mid-air. It had fallen down lightly in white clumps. Dipper had called it ‘snow’. She realised that what she saw now was ash, a far less pleasant sight.

Wriggling, Merrise stretched out her limbs. Brushing off the soot that coated her arms and legs, she was still left with light scorch marks and dirt blemishing her skin and clothes. Only her green sweater remained totally untarnished, a testament to Mabel’s great skill with the wool.

Somehow, despite all the devastation that had passed over, she was alive. She’d followed the standard air raid practice, drilled into her from hundreds of propaganda bursts on the radio. Hunker down ‘til the bombs passed over, minimise your profile, reduce possible area of contact with explosions. If in an open area, stay still and hope the fighting passes your location.

That strategy hadn’t worked this time, as the spread of flames had covered the entire landscape equally, inexorably crawling over every bush and tree. Foliage had erupted all around her, combusting in the intense heat. Even now the air was still clogged with hot smoke, and she choked as it caught in the back of her throat.

Yet she’d been spared, the worst of the fire merely passing over her. Standing up, she saw that the cooling ash fields stretched across the valley, identical to where they’d found the dead tree. Her father was nowhere to be seen, and she counted that a blessing. He’d been carried away to a distant boundary of trees and presumably escaped the worst of the fire.

Covering the distance to find him could take hours, and she felt in no fit state to walk. Her arms and legs were sore, and her breath was still uneasy with the smoke-filled air.

Then she felt eyes upon her. She wasn’t alone. Whirling around, she came face to face with the last thing she expected to see.

Standing tall above her was the Firebird itself, the cause of all her current hardship. Its body still crackled with energy, molten bursts breaking through the outer skin of rocky plates every now and again. But it seemed pacified, content to watch her. As long as it didn’t spread out again and drown the world in flame, she’d be alright.

She waited for the creature to do something, anything. It kept observing her with those piercing eyes, the colour of sunset. “Uh, hi?” she ventured. Regarding it carefully, she even took a step forward. “Hello? Can you hear me? Back home the honour guard used to ride on animals a bit like you.” The Bird’s gaze didn’t waver, and Merrise gulped. “They had bright blue feathers though. I always wanted to pet one. I don’t think doing that with you would be such a good idea.”

She was rambling, trying to say anything to appear brave, to present herself as unaffected by the massive creature. She didn’t think she was very convincing though. It could crush her with its bulk at any moment, never mind the fire.

“Please, I want to find my dad.” The creature didn’t move an inch. “I don’t know what’s going on. I’m gonna-“ Merrise tried to walk away, but the Bird just shifted its viewpoint to watch her. “What do you want!?” she yelled out, at the end of her rope. Dipper would know what to do if he were here.

“NON-NATIVE LIFEFORM DETECTED,” the creature suddenly blared out in a voice that echoed around the entire empty valley.

Merrise was a helpless animal in the spotlight as it leaned over her. Its wings spread out slowly to either side, but Merrise was relieved to see it wasn’t about to attack. They formed a cowl, fixing her in the centre of its view.

“NON-NATIVE LIFEFORM DETECTED.” The Firebird repeated its statement yet made no further movement. “REQUEST: CLARIFY IDENTITY.”

It was asking her who she was. Merrise didn’t know where to start with that. “I’m- I’m Merrise Azzah Pines. I’m ten and a half years old. I live in Gravity Falls with my mom and dad. Uh, is that all you want?” 

She grimaced up at the Firebird. Slowly, like watching clouds shift in the sky, it raised a solitary eyebrow. “QUERY: SPECIES?”

“Oh, I’m from Tengosa.”

“INCORRECT.”

“Excuse me?” she said, louder than originally intended. She thought she knew her own species at least. Then she remembered she was wearing the perception filter. The gold medallion still hung around her neck. She reached in and held it up. As far as the Firebird saw, Merrise was as human as they came. Yet something had let it know she was from somewhere else.

For the first time she wondered how she would appear to strangers while wearing it. Presumably not anything like her adoptive parents, since everyone would know she wasn't related to them, not really. She'd met multiple humans already, witnessed the variety of skin and hair colours, and other minor differences. Something to ask Dipper about later. 

Merrise slid the medallion over her head and the fur hat, whatever illusion it presented fading away at the same time. The Firebird’s eyes widened, but thankfully it didn’t make to attack. “Species identity confirmed: Tengosan.” It was no longer speaking with such a booming reverb. “Non-native lifeform correctly identified and unharmed. Survey requirements unimpeded.”

“Unharmed? Is that why the fire didn’t hurt me?” She felt a surge of excitement within. This was what Dipper and Pacifica had told her about. When faced with a mystery you had to piece together all the clues, figure out what was important and how it all fit together. She could do it. She could solve this thing on her own. She needed to probe this creature now while she had the chance. “Who are you exactly? I was told this place was home to some strange things. Are you from around here, or are you a newbie like me?”

Before the Firebird could answer, Merrise felt the ground trembling again as it had before the green wave had first appeared. With nothing to cling onto she fell over in the dust. The impassive creature above her simply continued to stare down in apparent judgement at her.

Then its head cocked to one side, like it could hear something Merrise couldn’t. “I must find her.”

“Her? Find who?” It didn’t look like she was going to get an answer. The flaming body of the Bird contracted. For a moment she feared it would spread out again and consume her whole world. But it remained narrow, before shooting away like a bullet in what seemed like a random direction.

Merrise stuck out her bottom lip. “Aw, we were just getting to know each other. I’m friendly, really! Not a threat!” He was already gone.

Unsure what to do next, Merrise took off her backpack. She found a bottle of water and gulped hungrily, anything to sooth her dried-out throat and clear out the taste of smoke. Then she felt it again, another tremor heading her way, much stronger this time.

Upon the distant horizon, near the wall of surviving trees that the Firebird’s wings hadn’t touched, the land burst into life. Trees sprouted up from acorns into mighty oaks within seconds, a whole ecosystem coming alive at once. At the forefront of the renewal was the green wave. She clearly saw the smiling face at the head of the effect.

As it approached, the foreshocks sent clouds of ash swirling up in a mini-tornado. This time she’d be unable to run. She was right in the middle of the wasteland. So she held her arms out wide, embracing the strange phenomenon wholeheartedly. It felt like something Dipper or Pacifica would do.

The wave crashed into Merrise’s position, creating new sprouts and tufts of grass that forced their way out of the parched soil. The effect washed over her, neither hurting her nor healing her from the minor burns. Though, the air quality became much more wholesome once all the ash was swept away. 

After a few moments, the ashen wastes she’d been standing in were wiped away, replaced with another verdant forest like the kind she and her father had been hiking in for two days. She turned to see where the wave would go next. To her surprise it seemed to halt not far from where she stood, bunching up and seemingly fighting a resistance in itself to move on. It finally spiralled and danced up into the sky, before falling back down as a fine spray and dissipating. 

She didn’t know what to make of the process, the making and unmaking of this world’s environment having happened in the span of minutes at most. From devastation to delight in no time. Small birds, not unlike the fiery apparition chirped and flocked in the clearing around her.

She heard the sound of twigs breaking and heavy footfalls from the direction the wave had come. An overwhelming feeling of relief swept through her when a figure in red plaid emerged from the trees. “Dad!” She ran towards him, enveloping him in her tightest hug.

“Merrise! Oh thank goodness you’re alright! I was so worried.” He sounded on the verge of tears, completely genuine. Merrise could tell how much he truly cared for her wellbeing as they clung to one another, safe and sound. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“I’m ok Dad, really.”

Dipper knelt down and looked over Merrise’s torn and damaged clothes. “Some minor singeing, I have cream for that.” He slung off his backpack and Merrise noticed that his journal was tucked under one arm.

She snagged it for herself and started skimming through the pages. So much of it was irrelevant, but she quickly found the latest page.

“Hey, what have I told you about stealing, little thief?” Dipper asked, half-smiling.

Merrise ignored him, staring hard at the page. “Six-finger discount. I want to know what you saw.” On each side of a double-page spread her father had already made two sketches. One was unknown to Merrise, a woman, hiding her face behind long matted hair. The other was a very rough rendition of the Firebird, with several inaccuracies. “This sketch is wrong,” she bluntly stated.

“Yeah, well I only had a distant view.” Dipper held out his hand and Merrise guiltily handed the journal back over. He checked it over with a stern look, then softened. “I’m just glad you’re ok. All that fire and burning-“

“It’s alright. The fire barely touched me anyway.”

“Is that a fact?” Dipper raised one eyebrow. “Seems there’s a lot going on around here.”

“What’s that other thing you drew? The lady with the long hair.”

“Ah,” Dipper said, his mouth turning to a straight line. “That would be the nature Sprite. That one.” He pointed over Merrise’s shoulder. When she turned on the spot she saw that sitting high up on the branches of one of the newly grown trees was the same woman from the sketch.

Dipper’s eye for capturing this creature with his pen was a lot stronger, it was pretty much a one-to-one recreation. He’d even captured the slight smile on her face, that implied more than mere contentment. She was getting some kind of pleasure from watching them down below, Merrise sensed instinctively, not fully happy about the idea.

Even looking at the Sprite, Merrise started to see her differently. She was made of more than mere green water. She felt like a cool breeze in the desert. Looking at her gave Merrise the same satisfaction as curling up in her parents’ laps, safe in a warm home where she was loved. Everything positive in the world seemed to stem from the Sprite.

At the same time it was almost too much. The colours in this paradise were washed out, the purest most eye-appealing shades of green. It was heady, like she imagined it would feel to be drunk.

Merrise shook her head, wanting to see this thing as she truly was, not blinded by its aura. Her father was seemingly enraptured, watching the Sprite with a clear sense of awe and blindly jotting down observations in Journal 9.

With a haughty laugh, the Sprite leapt down from its perch and flowed away into the forest, quickly obscured among the twisting roots.

“What the heck was that?” Merrise questioned loudly. “Seriously, is anyone gonna tell me what’s going on?” She turned to Dipper, who was deep in concentration staring at the two sketches. “Hello?”

“Oh, right.” He jolted into action, tucking the journal away once more. “See, I have the beginnings of a theory. Gravity Falls has always been famous for its weirdness. These creatures we’ve encountered might be linked to that.”

“What, seriously?”

“I think the Sprite and the Firebird might be some sort of – and this’ll sound a bit unlikely – fundamental forces of nature. They might even be the cause behind all the weirdness!” Dipper was getting more excited than Merrise had seen him in a long time. Possibly since Wendy’s birth. “Death and rebirth, an eternal cycle. Over and over again. It’s perfectly natural, for life to flourish there has to be change. We’re witnessing the opposed forces of creation and destruction playing out their cosmic battle right before our eyes!”

“What, that can’t be right.” Merrise frowned and tried to nab the journal again. “You said you used to walk this trail all the time! So why have you never run into these ‘fundamental forces’ before?”

“This valley has a lot of secrets,” he started, slightly annoyed by her tone. “Not all of them are easy to stumble onto.”

“But we’re out in the open. The middle of the forest!”

"I know! But there's a lot of things in Gravity Falls that stay hidden. Things like the Hide-Behind, the Crawlspace, or the Island Head Monster slipped under the radar for so long. You could cover the same ground for years and still miss stuff. Look,” he opened his journal again and Merrise grunted in annoyance.

The page was open to a sketch of the globe, covered in wavy lines that met at a single point. “See, the Earth is surrounded by these things called morphic fields – ley lines would be another name for them. And an unsurprising amount of them converge here in Gravity Falls. I think these creatures we’ve encountered are mildly psychic, tapping into those same fields. That’s how they’re able to reshape the landscape so effectively.”

He tapped the sketch confidently with a finger, like it was a decisive statement. Merrise though he was just spouting unrelated nonsense. “But Dad, you’re missing the obvious. That can’t be the right answer. The Firebird knew I was an offworlder.”

“The bird actually spoke?”

Merrise nodded, desperate to get him to see her point of view. “It said I was an alien. That’s why I’m immune to these ‘forces’!”

Dipper seemed to notice how little the fire had affected her for the first time. He stuck out his bottom lip, and Merrise could sense gears whirring behind his eyes. “Hmm. It would certainly muck up my theory. But they were so majestic, so primal.”

“I think that’s all fake. Just some illusion.” Merrise looked around. The Firebird and Sprite were long gone from this area. There was still so much they didn’t understand. “Dad, please trust me. We need to find them again, before someone really gets hurt.”

Her father nodded, bowing to her direct experience. “Alright. We’ll do it your way Sixer. Let’s find out the truth.”

* * *

After a long night’s sleep at home (happy to be in a real bed and not in a tent), Pacifica got up bright and early to start work on the new project. No dawdling by doing something else. No quick games on the Playstation 6. No more distractions whatsoever. Compared to yesterday her passion was on fire, and she jotted down pages worth of planning notes.

All of them were based around ideas on how to best memorialise the stories she’d lived through. The epic adventures, the mysteries, the sacrifices she’d endured. Though she’d been hesitant to dip into the journals before, thinking it would make her a lesser author, she now saw how it could honour those they’d lost. She could weave the fabric of her past to tell the story in her own way, while bringing the tales to a wider audience.

Most importantly, she could give those histories to her own family. Wendy, lying in her cot, knew nothing of the path her parents had taken through life. Merrise knew part of the story by dint of being around for the ending. Yet even she didn’t know how it had all started, what had brought them to Tengosa. She didn’t even know the origins of the journal or portal.

Now Pacifica had a chance to do it, the right way. At first she planned it as a kind of epic narrative. But she quickly scrapped it for being too pretentious. A multi-hundred-thousand word behemoth might be too much of a slog for anyone to read through before ever getting the juicy character drama near the end.

So she settled for something that would come more naturally. She wanted to use her not-bad skills as an artist to do illustrations for the book, like the sketches in her journal. That led her to the idea of writing the stories as a kid’s book. She could simplify the complex journey, fill it with loads of pretty artwork, make it palatable to her kids. It was all falling into place.

Now she just needed her inspiration. That was the tricky part. Where to start?

Mason’s recent journals were sat on the desk alongside her llama book, all ready to be plundered for ideas. But the breadth of the topic was daunting. Dozens of volumes of creature descriptions and personal notes would make hard work adapting.

Pacifica opened a page at random from Journal 7. The page detailed a creature called a Standyak, all fur and bones and horns. She frowned, feeling some of her enthusiasm start to drain. 

Seriously, what was up with the names of some of these entries? Was it that Mason, Mabel, hell, all the Pines just liked giving things super goofy names, or were they already named that before, and the universe was just wired in such a way as to specifically annoy her?

She shut the book, not planning to start with volume 7 anyway. Mason’s older books, Journals 4 to 6, were still stuffed in a cardboard box somewhere, still packed from the move. The oldest volumes of all were locked away even more securely, Stanford Pines’ work being infinitely riskier if it were ever fully revealed to the world at large.

Those books wouldn’t be her story anyway. She flipped back the pages of her own pink-covered journal, to the earliest pages. She’d started at 17, at first simply emulating Mason, but then finding her own satisfaction in the writing. It was a perfect escape from her awful home life, one of the few places, like the Mystery Shack or with the twins, where she could keep her own private thoughts safe.

It wasn’t a flawless start. There were still a few years of her life undocumented, those best-forgotten times when she’d still been under the thumb of her tyrannical parents before the influence of the twins grew. But it felt right to begin with her own words, naïve as some of them seemed looking back ten years on.

Running away from home, all the worries about the future of her life with Mason, the minor aggravations of sharing a room with Mabel for a few weeks. It was all so thankfully irrelevant now, with a stable, fulfilling life lived behind her.

As she formulated how to properly write an introduction to her sprawling ideas for the book, the one distraction left nearby suddenly buzzed. Sighing at the inevitability of her procrastination, she checked her phone, expecting little more than an update from her two happy campers out in the field.

`UrsaPinus: Uh, Paz, we might be on our way back a little early. Nothing to worry about, Merrise is fine, stay calm.`

Well. That wasn’t ominous in the slightest.

* * *

Dipper and Merrise walked side by side, neither one talking much. The newly sprung up forest felt oddly constrictive, the tightly packed pines blocking a clear view of the abnormal creatures at work in the valley.

Occasionally Dipper would hand Merrise chipackerz, determined to help get her energy back up. after one salty snack too many, Merrise slapped it away. “Stop it Dad! I’m not hungry.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, unsure of how to fix things with his daughter. Perhaps simply being honest about things would help. “I know I’m over-worrying, it’s just… for a while back there I thought you were gone, Merrise. Taken by the fire.”

“It’s not that. I mean, it is. But other stuff too.” She stopped and leant against a tree, turned away from him. “When you stomped in with the Sprite you weren’t listening to me at all. You had your theory and that was that. I didn’t matter.”

“That’s not true. I was wrapped up in the mystery of it all, sure. But you are the most important thing in my whole world, and Pacifica’s too.”

“Then listen to me!” she shouted. Dipper stayed silent. He’d never had a proper argument with Merrise before. Everything had been pretty rosy since their move to the Falls. He should have expected it someday.

“Alright then. Tell me what you think, Sixer, and we’ll go from there.”

Merrise’s sour expression softened a little, appreciating his attempt to communicate. “When I was with the bird thing, it tried to talk to me. Only it sounded really strange. It was, it was…” She grasped for the right word. “Artificial! Like you said earlier! It wasn’t like talking to a real person, more like a machine.”

Dipper stroked his chin thoughtfully. “If not mystical, then maybe these things are constructs. Intelligences sent to Earth for some reason. It’s possible I suppose, though it’s been a while since I ran into a full-blooded alien around here. Guess we’re overdue a visit.”

“Except for me,” Merrise whispered, and Dipper almost missed that she’d spoken.

“Huh?”

“I’m an alien too. Or did you forget?” Her tone was frighteningly harsh.

Dipper stumbled over his words again. “No, but I don’t think of you that way. As different from me.”

“But I am different! Look at me.” She splayed her hands out on her chest, as if she were horrified of the sight there. “That’s the only reason that Firebird saved me! Because I’m not human. I’m a freak, an outcast. I always will be.”

“Hey, hold on now, that’s not totally fair,” Dipper said, trying to defuse the tension. Merrise sounded like she was about to explode. “You’re not the only alien on Earth. There’s always your Aunt Zera, huh. She’s S’aren, not human.” He slapped his forehead. “Man, and I thought introducing _you_ to my parents would be hard, imagine Mabel rocking up with her alien girlfriend, oof.”

Merrise thought about this. Mabel was one of the kindest people she knew, but her passion within was also enough to outshine the brightest stars. If anyone could win her parents over, it would be her.

“It’s easier for her,” Merrise finally said. “I’m a kid, I have to fit in or else. I mean, what do you think it’s going to be like when I have to start school? Really, me trying to mesh with a bunch of kids from a whole ‘nother world? When I can’t even read properly!?”

“I-I don’t know,” Dipper stammered, before cursing himself. “It was naive, believing you could seamlessly slot in. I didn't think about all that before taking you away from Tengosa."

"No. You didn't," she said icily. Then her features relaxed. "I'm sorry, that's not what I mean. Of course I'm grateful. You wanted to make my life better, I love you and Pacifica for that."

Dipper shut his eyes for a long time, then sighed, a deep noise that seemed to echo in this forest that had only come into being minutes before. "You do have a point.” Merrise seemed taken aback by that. She’d expected him to continue arguing the issue. “It wasn't much of a choice really. I didn't exactly examine the consequences, Pacifica and I just wanted to get you out of that awful situation. And we were both a bit too eager to leap into the whole thing given..."

"Given what?"

Dipper paused, taking a good long time to think how to explain this to Merrise. What he had to say would take a lot to muster up. She was young, but also keenly smart. He saw there was no point prevaricating and got down on one knee to match her eye-level. "You know about your sister?” Merrise nodded. She doted on the baby as much as everyone else in the family did. “Well for a long time she wasn't a possibility. When we met you on Tengosa, and bonded right away, we saw that as our chance to finally start a family. Even after Wendy, we still never forgot the way we felt towards you."

He laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry I was impatient with you. I’m new at this dad stuff too, remember.”

“So you’re not angry with me?”

“Sweetie, what would I have to be angry about?”

She rubbed her arm. “I dunno. Me making things difficult. Shouting at you. Not being a good kid.”

“Oh, come here.” Dipper enveloped his daughter in another hug. “I wouldn’t change a thing about you. You’re a Pines, no matter where you come from or who you are. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” She looked up at him, fragile and still only tenuously sure of her feelings. Every protective instinct in Dipper’s body told him not to say what he had to next. “Alright then, we’re burning daylight. Let’s go catch a monster together.”

Merrise’s eager grin that followed made him nearly hyperventilate. “ _Take it slow, Dip-Dop_ ”, he thought to himself, imagining it as Mabel’s voice prodding him. “ _She can take care of herself. Someone’s gotta keep the valley safe!_ ”

“Yeah, but why does it always have to be me though?” he muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may be obvious by now, but the supernatural creatures featured in this story are a homage to the final segment of Fantasia 2000, The Firebird Suite. I watched the segment right before starting writing in earnest, and I thought it'd be fun to try and translate the descriptions of the mythical events of that short.


	4. Forged in Fire

“Are you sure this will work? I’d much rather keep myself from being flame broiled if it’s all the same to you.”

“Shush Dad, you’ll ruin the plan!”

Dipper edged along behind his daughter, as she strolled forwards without a care in the world. In one hand she clutched the gold medallion that projected her human disguise. He was staying firmly behind her, though her slender frame was neither wide nor tall enough to successfully protect him should the worst come to it.

Supposedly the perception filter was acting as a homing beacon. According to Dipper’s theory about the morphic fields, the Firebird (or Sprite) would be drawn subconsciously towards the device. That was the rough idea at least, since it tapped into a similar psychic network. So far they’d had little luck.

“If your mother was here-“

“Shhhh,” Merrise hissed. “I think we’re nearly there.”

Most of the evening had involved trudging through terrain that was unfamiliar to either of them. The Sprite’s renewal of the forest meant it was a completely new set of trees, with all the traditional trails burnt away. A virgin wilderness with no easy guideposts.

Above the trees dead ahead, Dipper now saw a faint orange glow. It could only be their quarry. “Is this really such a good idea?” he yelped, his voice rising slightly at the end. Bringing Merrise into direct danger wasn’t his idea of good parenting 101.

“Through here.” Merrise ran forwards and Dipper stumbled over roots to catch up with her.

The gap through the trees opened up onto a vision of pure destruction. Pits of flaming refuse dotted the land, and not a single living creature seemed to stir. At the centre of it all was the Firebird, thankfully confined and not spreading its body out over the whole valley.

Merrise cleared her throat, then put herself directly in front of Dipper. She spread out her arms, providing a little extra cover. She might be immune, but he wasn’t. No matter how far she tried to reach her tiny body would provide little cover if a raging inferno sped their way.

“Hello Firebird!” Merrise shouted into the clearing. Dipper resisted the urge to crouch down like a wimp behind his daughter. He had to appear strong for her.

The great column of molten rock tilted its head over towards them. The blinding red eyes fixed on them, hawk-like, before the creature dove into the ground. It crossed the expanse in moments, before rearing up like a wave in front of Merrise.

Dipper had already started sweating from nervousness, but now he was dripping buckets. The fire was not contained within the creature at all, drying out the air and parching his lips. “Let’s get this over with quickly,” he said through a strained throat.

Merrise, though still getting visibly hot, was mostly unaffected by the Firebird’s effects. Before Dipper could protest, she even reached out and placed a hand on the cracked rock of its body. Nothing happened. She didn’t burst into flames or recoil from the creature. She was excited.

“So cool!”

“Well, you know there are some upsides to being different,” Dipper said, nudging her back. “Now, if we could wrap this up before I dehydrate completely, that’d be swell.”

“You remember me?” Merrise asked up at the Bird, while holding up her perception filter. It had the additional bonus of making sure he saw here as she really was, no chance of being accidentally run over by the fire a second time.

The Bird cocked his head in response. “Of course, Merrise Azzah Pines, your identity is recorded.” Leaning over, the beast came face to face with Dipper. There was only a tiny gap between them, and Dipper’s body temperature was skyrocketing through the roof.

“Uh, hi there. I’m Dipper. Or Mason. Or just Mr Pines I guess. Welcome… to Earth?” he offered, before licking his lips. They felt so dry under the scrutiny of the Bird’s gaze.

The Bird looked at Dipper, then down at Merrise, then back up again. “This child is your descendant?”

“Well, technically you could say that. But not from a biological standpoint, which I think is what you’re asking about.”

“Good,” the Firebird responded.

“Good?” Merrise asked.

“Cross-contamination of project samples would necessitate a hard reset. That is no longer required.”

Dipper thought he saw the traces of a smile creep onto the Bird’s fiery face. “What are you then, some kind of alien seeding devices gone wrong? One to tear down existing structures, the other to rebuild healthier than ever before? Terraformers, super quick. Only something’s gone wrong in the programming.”

“Yeah,” Merrise continued, “you’ve been going round in circles, breaking and fixing the same things over and over again. Do you even know what you’re doing, you and the other being? I mean, this is my home now, I’d prefer if you didn’t trash the place just when I was settling in.” She gave a weak chuckle and Dipper wondered if she was equally anxious in this moment but was better at hiding it.

The Firebird hovered, still leaning over the pair. “My original purpose became… corrupted. I now seek a great wealth.”

“Well sorry,” Dipper said, “I’m not handing out change. We’re not exactly overflowing with cash.”

“Why not, Dad? We’re pretty rich. I mean, we have a garden at home. No-one on Tengosa had a garden, ‘cept the Prime Leader.”

“I suppose we’re _decently_ wealthy.” He scowled, feeling like he’d had this exact conversation a few times with his sister, about accepting their privilege. Though it wasn’t like Pacifica could easily dip into her parent’s funds anymore. Maybe when she was just a kid, but as an adult she was certainly expected to make do on her own without their ‘ _generosity_ ’. “Anyway, I get the sense that Big Bird here is talking about something other than local currency. Am I right, Firebird?”

Reeling back, the Firebird’s mouth opened. All that came out was a strange whirring noise. As far as Dipper could see, the Bird didn’t resemble any kind of traditional robot he was familiar with. Its body’s fluid properties and ability to reshape itself implied that any technology would be weaved directly into the skin. It may have even been grown, not built. The halting noise it spewed out in lieu of words was the first implication that it was indeed an artificial construct.

The stone feathers lining its belly rumbled, and Merrise pulled her hand away. The beak of the Bird closed and re-opened, then he finally spoke in the harsh blaring voice that had first greeted Merrise. “MISSION PARAMETERS STILL IN AFFECT. TARGET: PAIRED UNIT. DESIRE: EXPRESS FULL PROTOCOLS OF UNION.”

“Huh? That made a whole lot of not-sense.” Dipper wanted to get out his journal to write this down and try to decode what was being said but feared the pages might spontaneously combust in the heat.

“I think he’s searching for the green lady,” Merrise said. “She’s the ‘paired unit’. I guess that’s why they keep going back and forth, following the other.”

“Not quite,” the Firebird said. “Paired Unit is not following ORIGINAL MISSION PARAMETERS. I do not know her intentions. Only mine.”

Dipper tried to figure out the full meaning of his words, pacing back and forth over the burnt ground. “You sound constrained, like you’re reading from a script. But when I spoke with your counterpart she seemed much more personable. Care to explain?”

“I was to be the first to arrive on terrestrial soil. But Unit diverted from that task. She saw this world and left me behind, overwhelmed by the variety of life.”

“Let me get this straight.” Dipper stopped pacing. “You come to a world, strip it down, then build it up. But the Sprite ran off to do her own thing. So, wait, why did you not follow your task either? You could have just stopped, not gone on this weird chase. Not caused all this chaos.”

“I…” the Firebird let out more whirring and clanking noises from within. “She is my other half. My one goal as long as I am functional. I must find her so we can complete our mission. She does not reciprocate.”

“Hold on,” Merrise said. “Are you saying you… have a crush on the Sprite?”

“What?” Dipper spluttered. “The very idea is preposterous. It’s mangled code, initial programming gone wrong. There’s nothing more complicated than that.”

“Didn’t you hear him? He might have said it weirdly, but it seemed pretty clear to me.” Merrise shrugged. “She ran away and he’s, like, in love with her.”

“Ridiculous.” Shaking his head, Dipper pulled Merrise back away from the obvious threat the Bird posed.

She wriggled free from his grasp. “No, _you_ don’t get it! Stop just going along with whatever theory you think is best! There’s more going on. It’s not a computer thing, it’s the way he thinks and feels.”

“I know love, Merrise. And love isn’t tearing everything in your way down to chase something unattainable. It’s about trust and caring, not blind obsession.”

“Well how would you know?!” Merrise whirled on him, all the pent-up anger he thought had dissipated flaring up again. “What do you know about relationships?! I mean, really? You ended up marrying the first person you ever felt something for.” Then her anger started to melt away. “You and Mom were so, so lucky. How can you even imagine anything different?”

“I…” Dipper once again failed to muster any kind of argument. She had seen through him yet again. He didn’t even realise how limited his view might be. “I… you’re right. Maybe for me it was easy, but for Pacifica…”

“Right.” Merrise gave a small grin. “You don’t even talk about her parents cause whatever happened was so bad. It was about you, wasn’t it?”

Dipper nodded. “Ok, point taken. She did sacrifice a lot in her life for me.” He turned to look at the Firebird, trying to see it through different eyes. “That’s right, isn’t it then? You’re… _infatuated_ with the Sprite?”

But now the look in the Firebird’s eye had changed subtly. It was no longer watching Merrise, perhaps wishing she’d step aside so it could continue its sweeping carnage. Now it was observing Dipper with what he could only describe as malicious intent. “You speak of… another bond. Strong, I sense. As strong as the bond between you, native, and this unclassified interloper. Perhaps the similarity could convince Unit at last.”

“Wait wait wait.” Merrise tried to block the Bird’s path as it turned away from the pair. “You think if you find Mom you can use her as a- a comparison? To make her see what you want?”

“To get out of the friendzone?” Dipper offered with a wry laugh. “It doesn’t work like that.”

The Firebird wasn’t listening anymore though. Merrise and Dipper had been merely a temporary obstruction, blocking its pre-set task. Now it had a potentially permanent solution to its problem. 

“Pacifica,” Dipper stated. “Don’t you dare!” It was too late. The Bird spread its wings wide and launched itself through the trees. Instead of travelling as a single mass, it broke up into a flock of smaller birds, all equally aflame and deadly. The fiery turmoil they left in their wake blocked the Pines’ access. “Damn it! We can’t wait for it to cool. We’ll have to find a route around.”

“Why? Where’s it going?” Merrise said, watching the flames trail away.

“It’s going home. After your mother.” His mouth dropped open. “And Wendy too. Oh my god, they’ll be in so much danger.”

“What are we waiting for then, let’s go.” Merrise took Dipper by the hand, leading him with six fingers through the woods. “So much for Mom’s peace and quiet at home,” she said with a smirk.

Dipper laughed out loud, though he wasn’t sure if it was just the stress making him mildly hysterical. “Right, her precious writing time.”

“You did say you wanted her to come on this trip originally. Family bonding time.”

“We’d better hurry home then. Otherwise it’ll cause deforestation.”

“What?”

“You know. Cause we’re all Pines?”

He gave her a dumb look that said, ‘huh?’, and Merrise giggled excitedly, letting the wind flow over her face as she ran over root and twig. It seemed the best bonding experiences came from these moments. Adventure ran in the family.

* * *

Nestled in her writing nook, Pacifica’s pen darted across the page, amending a small note she’d made earlier. Her hand moved in light swishes, moving over the paper seemingly at random, fixing anything she deemed an error. That done, she folded the final sheet of paper with the small pile she’d accumulated.

All in all, not a bad start to the book. The sheaf of notes would make an excellent baseline for her to begin writing the actual prose in the near future. She’d started by drawing up a rough timeline of her entire life, adding in bits and pieces of relevant information she could remember the twins telling her about in the past. Anything that might be important to telling the full story of their lives in Gravity Falls and beyond.

It wasn’t perfect, she had to admit. Some areas were far too sketchy, like the earliest days of that first summer. She’d have to call up Mabel and get her to dig into her old scrapbooks, since they were likely the most complete record of those days, no matter how much Mason valued his journals.

Then there were the dull periods where nothing much happened. The early years of her marriage, when she’d lived far away from the weirdness hotspots for one. She’d have to find ways to skip over those sections. Still, it made a handy divider between the crazy events.

Her notes included a few preliminary sketches, testing out the art styles she might potentially use. She’d decided this was what she wanted, accessible, easy stories. A way to bring them out of the past and into the future, a story that would continue to be told far after she finished chronicling it.

She’d even taken some time to try and write little obituaries for those who’d passed on. Those were the hardest parts. Wendy Corduroy, for all their initial dislike for one another, had saved her life in multiple ways, and proved she really was worth getting to know. It was a shame what had happened in the end, just as they were starting to patch things up. So now she had to get this section right, to remember her full life.

Now with a decent overview document before her, Pacifica felt happy with the way the day had gone. “Wait until Mace and Merrise see this”, she thought. Then she frowned.

There had been the matter of the cryptic text Mason had left her earlier in the day. A mild panic had set in afterwards, but when she received nothing further she shrugged and moved on with her work. Mason was a big boy. If he thought he could handle himself then so be it. Yet the nagging idea that he was taking their daughter into some mad adventure did remain.

Pacifica fished her phone out of the locked safe she’d crammed it in to keep it from distracting her. As she thought, two dozen missed texts from her sister-in-law. Mabel did so love to keep her in the loop about every little thing. But no more word from her husband.

Might be best just to call him, even if that broke their supposed ‘no-contact’ rule. She was meant to be isolated so she could work, and those two were meant to have a no-pressure trip together. As she was about to dial Mason, Wendy suddenly gave a high-pitched scream from the other room.

Pacifica sighed and went to the baby’s cot. She wrapped her daughter up in her arms and rocked her, trying to get her back to sleep. She wondered if her own mother ever did this, or if she had a servant who did such things for her. “It’s ok baby girl, go to sleep. Mama’s here.”

Her crying didn’t subside much. Pacifica, curious as to what had set her off, began to hear a distant sound of wind building outside. Rapidly it became a great gale, buffeting against the sides of the house. “No, please no. Don’t let this be something weird.” She frowned, hoping to scare off this strange effect merely by scowling hard enough. It had worked with most problems as a kid.

The howling wind didn’t abate, even if Pacifica felt nothing insulated indoors. That was, until the roof of her home simply lifted away, picked up by a tornado of smoke. A massive falcon lit by red fire bent over the room, regarding her as if looking down at a doll’s house.

“Oh shit,” Pacifica stated, not caring if the baby in her arms could hear her or not. At least she’d finally stopped crying. They were in the eye of the proverbial storm, the wind flowing around them but not touching.

It was most definitely something weird.

The firebird blinked once, making a clicking sound like the shutter of a camera, a sound Pacifica was all too familiar with thanks to her husband’s favourite hobby. Then the beak opened, and a slew of words tumbled out. “TARGET ACQUIRED: MATCHING GENETIC MATERIAL TO PREVIOUS SAMPLE.” Oh, so her husband _was_ involved. Why was she not surprised?

There was only one tack to take when dealing with the supernatural, Pacifica had found over the years. Treat it as normally as possible. Don’t let it faze you one bit. It was probably the best way to keep Wendy from shrieking again at least.

“What do you want? This is my house, not a formal event. Knock on the door like the rest of the crappy salesmen.”

To her mild surprise, the creature looming above responded to her question, in a gentler voice. “I found you, your resonance along the field lines was easy to detect. You are a matching unit. I wish to emulate your bond. Then the Paired Unit will finally acknowledge my emotional affection.

"Oh, a regular old Icarus, aren't you. Flying too close to the fire." She was speaking out her ass, but it was anything to keep herself grounded at a time like this. “Go on then, get it over with. Hold me hostage, skip out the bullshit, cut to the chase.”

“Very well.” The Bird’s wings extended and wrapped around her. She clutched Wendy tight so as not to let her fall, then allowed herself to be submitted to this ordeal. The faster she got it over with, the faster she could get back to a long drink of champagne to forget this whole thing. And the Bird’s grasp was surprisingly soft. Despite the toxic air and corridor of flame left in its wake, the wings were as soft as real feathers. Practically chivalrous. Very old-school kidnapping. At least this thing had some class.

“Small warning beakface. You hurt my daughter, then no force in space or earth will stop me from making you suffer the worst pain imaginable. Capiche?”

“Understood. Though note that all complaints addressed will be sent directly to my creators – all of whom are long dead. Thank you for taking the time to rate this product.”

“Great, just great,” Pacifica said as she was lifted above the remains of her roofless house. “I’m being kidnapped by a giant lava monster with the brain of a cheap ATM. This’ll make a great last chapter in the book.”

* * *

Watching from the edge of the woods, Merrise and Dipper saw the entire scene play out, with the Firebird forcing the roof of their home and grabbing Pacifica and Wendy. There was little they could do to stop it without risking it setting fire to either them or the surroundings. Though their house was at the edge of town, a fire could still spread rapidly if allowed, causing more than their own family to be placed under risk.

Getting back to the house had been tricky in the all-new growths created by the Sprite. Dipper had saved them, navigating to within a close approximation of where they needed to be using one thing that hadn’t been affected: the stars. Once they were at the edge of town, it was simple enough to follow the trail of devastation the Firebird had handily left for them.

Right now the Firebird had only a small ring of fire around itself, while Pacifica nestled against its chest. Similar to whatever immunity Merrise possessed, the creature’s effects didn’t touch its captives.

“The only question is what it’ll do next,” Dipper said.

“Well if I’m right, it’s waiting for the Sprite to show.” Merrise wanted to rush down there and help her mother and sister, but Dipper had known the value of waiting for a better moment and held her back. “How does it work then? By having Pacifica it’ll make the Sprite jealous or something?”

“How should I know?” Dipper muttered. “I’ve never met these things before.” He scanned the area below with his telescope, wishing the lens had a smaller angle. It was designed for stargazing, not detailed surveys of close ground. “Maybe if we got to a fire hydrant we could at least douse the Bird. Then we’d be doing something.”

“What did I say, Dad? We’ve gotta wait for the Sprite. That’s why the Bird’s doing what it’s doing.”

“With Pacifica up there I’d rather be doing anything that standing around.” He breathed out deeply. “But you’re right. We’ve gotta wait and see.”

“That’s such a dull option though.” Both of them looked up. The Sprite was once again mischievously reclining on a branch, watching the Firebird’s display with disinterest. “He really is frightfully uninteresting. All that bland brute force.”

“You again,” Dipper said, his lips curling into a frown. He tried to see through the aura of good vibes surrounding her, remembering it was all likely a psychic effect, using the same mystical fields as what had led the Firebird to Pacifica. “Care to help out? It’s your mess that’s caused all this.”

“My mess?” The Sprite leapt out of the tree. As she hit the ground, she splashed on the ground and broke apart into a puddle of liquid. Coming back together, she reformed as an ephemeral figure, flowing around the pair like the wind, flitting from view before anyone could look at her face for long. “That’s all his fault, down there. All this time, all those ages. We've been at this for so long I can't even remember. Could be years, could be eons. Could be only a few minutes. I don't think we were made with internal clocks."

Dipper tried to offer an explanation, partly for himself more than Merrise. "I get it, you guys accelerate the natural processes. Geology on fast forward, millions of years of change compressed into a single instant. No point having a normal sense of time."

Merrise tugged on his leg. “Uh, Dad? About the Firebird? The weird romance thing?”

“Oh, right. Yeah, uh, nature Sprite, thing, you.” He pointed at the amorphous cloud spinning around them. It was like trying to have a debate with the breath you see in cold weather. “I don’t have the full picture exactly, but you two have to stop this dancing around each other. It’s causing real damage to our ecosystem. See, your buddy – Firebird, Paired Unit, whatever you want to call him – he’s not following the standard procedures.”

This brought the Sprite to a stop at last. She halted her dance, coming to rest before them in the figure of a small maiden with long hair the same colour as the leaves behind her. If Dipper blinked he thought he might lose her, so effective as camouflage was it.

“What I’m trying to say is that the Firebird is trying to get with you. He – how do I put this? He yearns, he desires…”

“He pines?” Merrise offered, garnering a smile from her father. “Face it, lady, he’s in love with you.”

"Love?” The Sprite laughed harshly. It was the first time Dipper had detected any kind of negative emotion in her presence. Her mocking cackles died away. “Why, that’s not love. It’s nothing more than a mindless obsession."

"Yeah yeah, been there, done that. It's real enough to him. Free will and all that, I'm sure from the outside most people seem that same. So, what do you say, let's all hug and kiss and be on our merry way?"

"Before he, oh I dunno, finishes kidnapping my Mom!?" Merrise said to underline the time pressure of the situation.

"Oh please,” the Sprite scoffed. She scrunched up her face, twisting her expression hideously. The very idea offended her, turning the appealing charm she exuded into a derisive sneer. “He's always been stuck in pointless loops, always trying to reach me. It's such a bore. Breaking the programming was so liberating. He’s nothing more than a subroutine with delusions of grandeur compared to me."

"Please,” Merrise yelled, “my sister's down there, she's only a baby!"

"Ooh, really? I do love children, so full of new life. Will be such a shame if I have to restructure the atoms from scratch."

“Don’t even think about it.” Dipper stepped towards the Sprite, his fists clenching. “You act all high and mighty like you’re some paragon of virtue, bringing life. Why don’t you actually act like a proper gardener, why don’t you nurture what’s already alive?”

“But that’s no fun,” she whined. “Stringing him along is so much better. I get to keep reshaping as much of this world as I like. And what a world. So much variety of flowers and trees and fish and fowl and insects and mammals. The Firebird searches constantly for me and I get to follow behind unseen, free-“

“As a bird?” Dipper suggested knowingly. “Bit on the nose that one, I think. Alright, well if you don’t care, we’ll go down there and tell him ourselves.”

“Dad!” Merrise hissed under her breath.

“Relax sweetie, I’ve dealt with worse monsters than this before.”

“That’s not the point. I don’t think she’s gonna let us.”

“Oh.”

All around them the forest was blooming into life, becoming choked with more and more foliage. Whole trees burst out from nearby trunks, forming an impenetrable wall of life around them.

The Sprite sat high above them in the canopy, evilly grinning. Dipper crossed his arms. “That all you got? Merrise, I think it’s time we introduced our friend to your special skill.”

The gold medallion flashed in the moonlight as Merrise took it off. The moment the Sprite could see her as she truly was, her satisfied smile was replaced with pure anger. The rate of growth around them increased. Dipper became trapped, pressed between two large trunks.

But Merrise could slip through the tangled web of flora, easily bypassing all of the ensnarements. “NO!” The Sprite yelled, sounding uncannily like her opposite. She moved away from Dipper, trying to stimulate enough growth to trap the small girl. Each time a tree sprouted Merrise managed to find a way around. She was alien, and thus unable to be affected by anything the Sprite could throw at her.

Dipper was able to weasel out of the trees now the Sprite’s attention was elsewhere. He followed Merrise, making for the Firebird and their house. “Pacifica! Hey, up here!”

The whole body of the Firebird turned, and Dipper looked up into the eyes of his wife. She wasn’t impressed. “You were supposed to be camping. Normal, everyday camping. Not going off on traumatic adventures and stirring up stuff. Though what should I expect in this town?” she said with a weary shake of the head.

“Nice to see you too, Princess,” Dipper said with a smirk. “Has our large friend filled you in?”

“He’s, like, a robot terraformer who fell in love with another robot terraformer. Boring stuff, can you get me down now? And where’s Merrise?”

“You’ll be down soon, Paz, trust me. And Sixer’s fine, she’ll be here any minute.”

“Like father like daughter,” she said, smiling despite the stress. Wendy was still somehow peacefully asleep through all of this.

On cue, Merrise burst out of the treeline and ran to Dipper’s side. “Hey Mom! We built a campfire last night and slept in real tents! And we cooked marshmallows. They tasted so sweet!” She winked, making Pacifica know she was only having a bit of fun.

“You two are gonna be the death of me, I swear. And I hope not literally.” The Firebird’s wings closed in around her. It was tensing its muscles.

A small earthquake heralded the arrival of the Sprite, chasing Merrise out of the forest. When she met the Firebird’s gaze her look of anger was enough to make all the Pines’ instantly lose their jovial mood. “You.” The otherworldly woman’s breath hitched in her throat.

“Paired Unit!” The Firebird flew over to the edge of the forest, a blonde trail of hair following behind. Pacifica was stuck between fiery death and a look that stared daggers.

“Paired Unit,” the Sprite acknowledged after a pause. “It’s been a while.”

“Indeed.”

There was a horrible moment of silence, where Merrise and Dipper could feel the discomfort emanating from both of the alien creatures. Eyes narrowing, the Sprite finally broke the silence. “What do you think you’re going to do with her then?” She gestured down at Pacifica, who squirmed under her gaze.

“She is… a demonstration.” A bed of cracked rock pushed Pacifica out of the creature’s bosom and up on display for the Sprite to see. “Her bond with the other human is an example.”

“Yeesh,” Pacifica muttered. “If he thought sparks would fly…”

The Sprite let out a trill of laughter, before fixing her eyes on her counterpart. “You are an idiot. Always have been. You’re not supposed to collect samples. You’re not supposed to build anything, let alone a relationship. Your job, your only purpose, is to rip roots from the earth, to tear down mountains, to flatten all in your path.”

“We are alike then,” the Firebird spat. “Both deviated from our tasks. Both defective. Yet I cannot lie. You are all I live for, to be united. No more life or death, merely a singular neutral entity.”

“I am a free being, thank you very much. You speak as if you’re innocent, but it’s you who destroys everything he comes in contact with. My hands are clean.”

“No they aren’t!” Merrise suddenly yelled up at the squabbling couple. “You said it yourself, you like fixing his broken landscapes. You need that to keep from getting bored. You’re still tied to him just as much as he is to you!”

“SILENCE, GIRL.” The Sprite ballooned in size, matching the Firebird in stature. She pressed her face right up against Merrise’s, the once-warm smile twisted into a jagged, malevolent line. “YOU ARE NOT PART OF THE EXPERIMENT. EXTERNAL INFLUENCES MUST BE AVOIDED.” She turned back to the Firebird, slasher’s grin wiped away to be replaced with a furrowed brow. “You should have quarantined her.”

Dipper stepped protectively in front of his daughter. “Hey now, remember – you can’t touch her. You’re only calibrated for dealing with Earth natives. So don’t even think about it.”

“But I can touch _you_.” With ferocious speed, the Sprite expanded into a rushing stream of liquid, hitting Dipper and folding him into herself. As the harmless green water brushed over Merrise, she was equally unable to do anything to hinder the creature. The Sprite reformed, with Dipper stuck to his waist beneath her skin.

Both her parents were now trapped, on opposite sides of the conflict. Pawns in these outsider’s squabble. “So,” the Sprite asked to her double, “are you ready to complete your task?”

The Firebird turned its head slowly, the muscles in its neck shifting like continental plates. Merrise took a step back, intimidated by the creature’s gaze. “I am sorry, Merrise Azzah Pines.”

“Get away Merrise!” Dipper yelled. “Run!” Wendy’s wailing cries became louder, and Merrise heard her mother trying to desperately calm her down.

Stumbling backwards away from the Bird, she fell over a root onto her behind. “You can’t hurt me,” she said shakily. “I’m immune.”

“I can remove you from the sample area via shunting along the morphic fields,” the Bird calmly stated. “Into the vacuum of space. You would not survive this procedure.”

Merrise knew what that meant. There was only one choice. “Do it then. Get it over with. If it’ll save my family.”

“No!” Pacifica yelled. She was right above Merrise, a purple and blonde smear suspended within the Firebird’s grasp. “She’s just a kid!”

“I’m doing this for you, Mom. For Wendy.” Fighting back the tears, Merrise threw her arms out. If this was how she went down, she would face it with dignity, she would appear brave. 

Appear. Suddenly she had an idea. What the Firebird had said, about using the field lines. She didn’t have to appear as an alien at all.

Not fully knowing what she was doing, Merrise grabbed the gold medallion of her perception filter out of her pack, took one look at the shining mass of circuitry welded to the metal, and jammed it into the rocky skin of the Firebird.

He gave an instant cry, arching his head back, before settling again. A vibration coursed through Merrise’s palm, and the plates of rock seamlessly reformed around the medallion, fixing it in tight. The Firebird looked down at her, and a small smile grew on its beak. “Thank you, Merrise Azzah Pines.”

Merrise knew her plan had worked. With the filter embedded in the creature, sending out its effect along the same wavelengths, the Firebird no longer had to see the world its mission parameters forced it to. She’d given him free will.

The Bird turned on the Sprite, who looked at him baffled. She’d clearly expected to do as told. Below them, Pacifica and Dipper watched each other warily, knowing something was about to go down and silently telling the other to be ready.

In a flash, the Firebird launched itself forwards at the Sprite. Its wings spread wide to encompass the form of its counterpart, wrapping her up in the fiery grip. Dipper and Pacifica were pressed together, finding each other in the confusion. The moment the Bird’s body touched that of the Sprite there was instant chaos.

A wall of steam launched out wherever the two titans collided. The green skin of the Sprite evaporated at the edges and she cried out in pain. Saplings pushed their way out from the cracks in the Firebird’s surface, before withering away to dust in mere moments. Chunks of flaming rock detached and collided with the side of the Pines’ house, blasting open a huge hole in the living room wall.

“What are you doing?” the Sprite yelled over the deafening cacophony. She tried her best to escape, but the Bird’s grip was ironclad. Like they were made for one another.

“This is what you wanted,” the Firebird said. No emotion crept into his voice, but Merrise saw a contended look on his face. “I’m finally making my own choices. Perhaps I was wrong to idolise you.”

The Sprite screamed out, a horrible sound that shattered most of the windows in the Pines’ house. A moment later, Merrise saw Dipper thrown free of the creature, coming to rest right beside her. “What’s happening Dad?!” she shouted to be heard over the rushing wind and crackling rock.

“They’re a parasitical relationship. Life and death, locked together eternally. But everything has to end eventually, even them.”

Within the two merged creatures, the wave that had once been the Sprite was nearly all dissolved. Merrise saw the head of the Firebird crumble away into smaller pieces. A small object suddenly fired out from the chaos, faster than a bullet. It was the perception filter, totally undamaged.

A cloud of dark smoke rose above the dying elementals, and a final crack of lightning split the two remains apart. One last primal act of non-creation, bringing an end to however long they’d spent making trails across the valleys.

A pile of black powder was all that was left once the maelstrom subsided. Pacifica was buried halfway, up to her waist, soot staining her clothes. Coughing up dust, she kicked her way out of the pile, visibly uncomfortable in her ruined garments. “Is it over?” she asked tremulously.

Beside her in the ashes there were small signs of movement, so Merrise ran over. Poking its head out of the soot, a tiny replica of the Firebird, no bigger than a raven, gave a high-pitched squawk. “Woah. He’s so tiny.”

“Must be the energy deficit,” Dipper suggested as he offered a hand to help Pacifica step free. Somehow Wendy, wrapped up in Pacifica’s hair and arms, seemed untouched by all the upheaval of dust. Gently he took the baby from his wife’s shaking arms, then continued his explanation. “All the power they shed went into the explosion. This is what got left over. This little bird. I suppose that’s the upside to all of the destruction; life can’t exist without death. The body of one dead creature becomes nutrients in the soil to feed others.”

“The circle of life,” Pacifica said. “Like that dumb musical with the tigers.”

“Lions, actually.”

Merrise was ignoring them, focused on the new life taking in its first moments. The miniature bird cocked its head, then shook the detritus off its shoulders. Its wings gingerly spread apart, and it flew into the air, before settling on Merrise’s shoulder. Its beak opened again, but all that came out were more squeaks. Whatever intelligence the bigger Firebird had possessed seemed absent.

He wasn’t unlike some of the birds she knew from back home, only lacking the colourful plumes of feathers. Merrise stroked the down atop the bird’s head, and it cooed into her hand.

"Look at that,” Dipper said. “He finally found his bond. Not romantic, but still an emotional connection."

"Can I keep him?" Merrise asked, and Pacifica immediately started spluttering in response.

“Excuse me?” Pacifica said. “That thing was a giant spectre of fire and death five minutes ago.”

“Yeah, but now he’s nice.” As if on cue, the bird fluttered around the room, coming to rest on the living room couch. It instantly burst into flames.

Eyes wide, Dipper and Pacifica stared at each other. “Fire extinguisher!” they both shouted, rushing over to the kitchen and throwing open cupboards. Pacifica found the red cylinder first and sprayed foam all over the room, dousing the fire. The bird seemed totally unphased, merely shaking the foam off as it had done the soot.

Merrise held her arm aloft and whistled. On command, the fiery bird returned to rest on her forearm, placid once more.

Pacifica ran a hand through her hair and exhaled. “Yeesh. Please let that be the end of it.” She watched the bird on her daughter’s arm warily. "I guess if the big one was Icarus, then this is Daedalus. Kinda. Bit backwards actually, but what’s the point of mythology if you can’t rework it for a modern audience.

"Daedalus, hmm...” Merrise stuck out her tongue. “Dee. I like that."

"Uh oh Paz,” Dipper said, “you named it now. No getting rid of the thing." He reached into his backpack, thankfully uncharred from all the fire, and offered Merrise’s new pet a cracker. "I'll need to build a fireproof cage, since you're the only one who can touch it safely."

Merrise was smiling happily, ready to take on all responsibility for the creature. Pacifica couldn’t help but smile too. Their family was already a weird assemblance of people, who’d come together by chance. What was one more addition to their flock?

* * *

Sitting down on the remains of the burnt-out couch, Pacifica and Dipper slumped, exhausted. Pacifica had spent a while fussing over Dipper and Merrise’s minor injuries from their tussles with the elementals, while both insisted they were fine the whole time. Sometimes she felt like the only one with a sensible bone in her body.

Above them on a broken rafter the Firebird’s descendant was seemingly asleep. Elsewhere Merrise was finding a part of the house that was relatively still standing to put her sister to bed. Pacifica was amazed she didn’t want to fall into bed herself, after two days of hiking and their double-time march back to the house.

In the darkness, Dipper found Pacifica’s hand between the charred cushions. She squeezed it in response. Beside her she could still see the boy who’d used to show up in the middle of the night, ready to take her on some crazy adventure into the woods in search of new mysteries to solve.

“Hey, mind if I scooch in?” Merrise had re-entered the room. “Wendy’s sleeping… well, like a baby.”

“That’s our girl.” Dipper put his arm around Merrise as she bounced down between them on the couch. Pacifica placed a hand on her head, stroking lightly across the fur hat she still wore. Together the family simply sat quietly, finally allowed a moment to breathe.

Dipper coughed into a fist and suddenly stood up. “I, uh, want to do something.” The girls watched, unsure what he wanted to do, but smiling and gesturing for him to go on. Dipper gave a deep breath “Ok.”

Legs bobbing up and down, Dipper began to sing, a rather off-key sound that was nonetheless totally genuine and from the heart.

“ _I’m Dad and I was wrong.  
I’m singing the Dad-wrong song.  
I shouldn’t have judged in advance  
Now here’s my remorseful dance._”

He ended with a dramatic kick of one leg, then got down on one knee and splayed out his arms. “Jazz hands, yeah!”

“Uh, what the heck was that?” Merrise asked as Dipper stood back up, smiling despite his family’s confusion.

“An apology. To you, Merrise.” In the corner of his eye, across the couch, he saw Pacifica silently nod for him to carry on. “You were right. About the creatures being aliens, about the love thing. I was too stuck in my ways, too sure that I was infallible to think differently. I'm sorry for steamrollering all your theories. I guess for so long I've seen all this secret knowledge as ‘mine’, ever since I first found the journal as a kid. Especially when I found out it was my Grunkle’s journal. Felt a bit like destiny, heh."

"I still don't know how you got into all this."

"That's where I come in!" Pacifica said

"You wrote the book?!" Merrise blurted out. Both her and Dipper had incredulous looks on their faces.

"No, not the whole thing, dummies. Oh Jesus, I hope the pages are ok." She ran into the other room, then returned with a stack of notepaper crammed under her arm. “Lightly singed around the edges, but still readable. I’m writing memoirs.”

Dipper raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you wanted to write fiction.”

“I did at first. But I had a chat with Soos – who by the way we should totally hire to fix the house – and anyway, I decided my life was interesting enough that I should write about it. I know, I’m a massive narcissist,” she said, adding a dollop of sarcasm.

Merrise looked at the hastily compiled notes, still not really able to discern their full meaning, but finding herself surprisingly eager to hear the full story. Maybe finally knowing how her parents had started out would help them connect, no matter the life she ended up pursuing.

“I’m sorry too,” she said. “For breaking the house and nearly getting you two hurt. I was reckless.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Dipper said, tightening his grip. “You don’t have to worry about any of that. That’s not just me talking as a dad either. Think about all you’ve done in the last year, how brave you’ve had to be. You travelled millions of miles through the multiverse with us. You helped save the whole of creation from the First. You can even stomach my and Pacifica’s cooking.” His wife punched him on the arm and Merrise giggled. “The point is, you can handle anything, Sixer. You're not the only one around here who’s different anyway." Dipper lifted the hair away from his forehead to show his birthmark "You've got your sixth finger. I have this. Pacifica has her crippling childhood trauma."

“And yet I’m still the most mature person in this family,” Pacifica retorted. She stood up in front of Merrise and put a hand on her daughter’s cheek. “Like Mason said though. Different doesn’t mean bad. You’re so important to us. I mean, yeah, we’ve both been busy raising your sister, but we’ve always got time to focus on our other special little girl. Oh, and if you were worried about kids at school, if anyone ever makes fun of you or picks on you, tell me, and I’ll sue their parents to within an inch of their lives,” she said with a cheery smile.

“That’s a serious threat,” Dipper said casually. “I know from experience.”

“Uh, thanks mom,” Merrise said. “I know you’ll scare them into submission.”

“Now, enough talking,” Pacifica said decisively. “We’ve all had quite enough worries for one night.”

Uncharacteristically, Pacifica threw her arms around both Merrise and Dipper, pulling them into a tight hug. Both of them flashed the other shocked looks, accepting the embrace. Dipper whispered over to Merrise. “Savour this kiddo, your mother only lets four people hug her: me, you, your sister, and Mabel.”

“I’ve never seen her hug Mabel,” Merrise said quizzically.

“Ah, that’s because you’ve never seen her off her guard. It takes a while, but Mabel always breaks her down and gets in a big old bear hug whenever we’re together.”

“Shut up,” Pacifica said through a mixture of tears and laughter. She stood back from the pair and rolled her eyes playfully. “You two are such dorks.”

“Yet you still love us,” Dipper said, and a red blush blossomed on his wife’s cheeks.

“Pines, Pines, Pines!” Merrise yelled. Dipper, and eventually Pacifica, soon joined in the chanting. Though their home was a ruined shell, those within couldn’t have been closer as a family than right then.


End file.
